Safe and Secure
by cosmogirl7481
Summary: "Bella could feel herself falling over the edge of something amazing, the likes of which she could never have known without him." A story about facing your fears, and finding that person who makes you feel safe enough to let go.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Bella Swan hated Tuesdays.

She hated the way her heart would pound as she walked down the hallway as she left her apartment promptly at six-thirty in the morning. She hated the way it caused her blood to pulse like a painful point just behind her eyes whenever she had a migraine. She hated being nervous, even if that was just a little bit ridiculous because she was nervous all the time. She was just _more_ nervous on Tuesdays.

As she stepped into the elevator, she took those deep, cleansing breaths – the ones her therapist had taught her. She closed her eyes, and focused on the subtle hum of the lift as it took her to the main floor. It didn't work, not really. She would need at least four hundred floors to calm down before she got to the lobby, and she only lived on the sixth.

The ding of the elevator – even though it was soft – startled her. It pulled her from her quiet meditation, and she opened her eyes just as soon as the doors opened. It was altogether too soon, and she took another deep breath, holding it in her lungs until it burned, and she made her way to the entrance.

He was there.

She knew he would be, of course. He was always there. From six to six every Tuesday through Friday. So, that meant she had to see him twice – every morning when she left for work, and every evening when she came home. She didn't know exactly what it was about him that made her so nervous. Maybe it was just his presence; his muscular arms that only seemed more defined underneath the crisp, pressed sleeves of his shirt. Though given his job as a security guard, she assumed that his build worked in his favor. Maybe it was his gorgeous face, his chiseled jaw, all defined and sharp, masculine yet beautiful. Or maybe it was the way his piercing green eyes looked at her – assessed her – every time she walked by.

Bella didn't like being watched. It made her uncomfortable. She'd always preferred to blend into background like the faded flowers on her grandmother's Victorian wallpaper. She liked the anonymity of being plain, ordinary, and altogether unexceptional. She'd never been the girl who stood out, happily sitting on the side and watching everyone else. In fact, she was so completely introverted; her parents had been shocked to learn that she'd accepted a job at a pharmaceutical lab in the city.

Her mother was certain that she wouldn't be able to handle living on her own in such a scary, busy place, but her father reluctantly agreed to let her. _Let her_. As if she wasn't a grown woman, capable of making her own decisions. However, he did have one stipulation – Bella had to live in a building with security.

And that was what led her here – nervous and flushed and walking into the lobby where the man who made her that way was surely going to be there.

Watching.

And there he was.

"Good morning, Ms. Swan," he said as she approached.

Bella looked down at the practical loafers on her feet, feeling her face flame. "Good morning."

She didn't know his name. She'd seen a name tag once, but she didn't let herself look long enough to actually read it. She imagined it was Clint or Bruce or something equally masculine and intimidating – someone who said things like, _Make my day_.

"Have a good day, ma'am." he said, holding the beveled glass door open. She noticed, not for the first time, his big hands, and the way his long fingers wrapped around the pewter handle.

"You too." She had to force the words out, pushing them with as much vigor as her remaining, shaky breath would allow.

 _Two words_ , she thought as she walked out onto the still-dark sidewalk, illuminated by lamp posts that were probably as old as the city. _It shouldn't be so hard to say two words_.

But unfortunately for Bella, it was.

She made her way to work. It wasn't far, not really, not by anyone's standards. Only five blocks. But at the early hour, it might as well have been twenty. It wasn't that the city was desolate. People were just starting to trickle in; commuters coming from the trains running underneath the streets. But the city was still sleepy, quiet. And while Bella didn't necessarily like crowds, there was something about the hustle and bustle of everyone around her that made her feel safe.

So she did what she always did. She kept her head down, her eyes glued to the quick cadence of her feet against the dirty concrete. She clutched the strap of her messenger bag until her knuckles were pained and white, only relaxing once she entered the building where she worked. She felt safe there, unbothered. She could work in the pharmaceutical lab where she had little need to interact with anyone. Bella understood chemicals. The chemistry between people was another thing entirely.

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Edward Cullen breathed a heavy sigh as he watched her walk away. He knew he made her nervous, but for the life of him, he didn't know why. Although, that wasn't really the truth, was it? He knew. Bella Swan was like a timid, little kitten, unsure about everything, including herself.

 _Especially herself._

And Edward, well, he knew he was intimidating. Even though he was quiet, he was dangerous. Or, at least, he could be. Of course he made her anxious. How could he not? But just like a guard dog, Edward was fiercely protective and affectionate with those who were important to him. Bella triggered that instinct in him for reasons he didn't understand, and beyond that, he found that he wanted to explore the reasons why. Even though every logical part of his brain told him he damn well shouldn't.

He'd worked in security for almost nine years – a sad, but necessary choice after being shot on a domestic violence call while he was on the police force. Being a cop was all he'd ever wanted. And when he graduated with a degree in criminal justice, he was accepted on the force the following fall. He'd never been happier, and his father had been so proud.

His father had been police officer, spent his entire career behind the badge. Hell, his entire life. When he had a heart-attack, suddenly passing away just three months before his retirement, Edward grieved. And standing next to his weeping mother, looking at his father in the casket, dressed in his uniform… Well, it changed him. It made him determined. And in that moment, he silently vowed to make him proud by becoming the kind of man, the kind of officer his father was.

And one night on a call, a drunk motherfucker who beat his wife pulled the trigger. And in less than one second, Edward lost everything. Not just his job, but his purpose.

Being in security wasn't a terrible job. Hell, at the time, he'd been relieved to know he had options that didn't include sitting behind a desk on the force, pushing papers like some glorified file clerk. But there was nothing challenging about what he did, nothing thrilling. Standing guard at an upscale, luxury apartment building didn't exactly scream exciting. At least it didn't until the day Bella Swan walked in.

She trailed quietly behind an older man he assumed was her father, and Edward couldn't help watching the obviously shy, quiet brunette. She stood there, wringing her small, delicate hands. But she'd looked up at him. It was just for a moment – only a second – but when she did, her brown eyes connected with his. She hadn't smiled before she quickly glanced away, but her face and neck flushed the deepest pink. And yeah, she could have been embarrassed, but Edward didn't think she was. He'd always been good at reading people. And even if she didn't know it, Bella Swan had been aroused.

And she had been every single time she'd passed him in the lobby ever since.

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 **A/N**

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **This was my submission for the BatB compilation, and you'll be happy to know it's already complete.**

 **I'll do updates daily, or as close to that as possible.**

 **Huge thanks to Marvar, my constant friend and beta. You can't imagine how horrible all this would be without her.**

 **Thanks to my pre-readers, Funmbie, Courtney, Raina, and Jaime (who also made the gorgeous banner). Y'all make this fun!**

 **Reviews are love.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Bella left work promptly at five. She walked the exact same streets in the exact same way, making only one change when she stopped at the market to pick up a few things. Her pulse started racing about a block from her building, but she knew it had nothing to do with the extra weight of the groceries she was carrying.

She was going to see him.

And there he was, just as soon as she walked in. The same big hands holding the door open, the same long fingers wrapped sturdily around the handle. She wondered briefly if he ever moved from his rigid position during the day, wondered what kinds of things occupied his mind for the twelve hours he stood there.

"Ms. Swan." His greeting was smooth and even.

"Good evening," she replied.

She could feel his eyes on her as she walked by, and in a moment of weakness, or possible curiosity, she paused and glanced back. She didn't know if it was reward or punishment, but the moment their eyes connected, his lips turned up in a slight smile.

She wasn't sure she'd ever seen him smile.

"Did you need something, ma'am?" His voice was a little lower than before, a little rougher. It carried across the space between them, making her shiver. And even though her heart was pounding, she took a deep breath and forced herself to speak. "I…I just wanted to apologize."

She could tell his laugh was one of genuine surprise, though it did little to settle her nerves. "What could you possibly have to be sorry for?"

"I don't…" She paused, wondering how she could admit it. "It's just…I never learned your name."

She glanced anxiously around the lobby, a part of her wanting nothing more than to run to the elevator and up to her apartment where she could lock the door and pretend that none of this ever happened. But the part of her that had wanted to move to the city on her own forced her feet to remain planted.

"It's on my badge," he said, his voice as soft as his smile. "I guess you'd have to get a little bit closer to see it."

She couldn't tell if he was teasing her, and if he was, she had no idea what to make of it. Men like him never spared her a second glance, much less a few playful words. Maybe he liked making her nervous. Maybe he was someone who found amusement in his ability to intimidate. And he was most certainly intimidating.

"Oh, umm…" she stammered, heat flooding her face. She gripped the bags she was holding even tighter and quickly looked down. "I shouldn't have…that's okay."

She started to turn around, but his voice stopped her. "That was an invitation."

Bella didn't really know what to say to that. To be honest, this was the longest conversation she'd had with anyone who wasn't her therapist or parents since she'd moved. And as she came to that realization, she recognized another truth.

It was sad.

It was terribly, terribly sad.

Bella didn't want to be sad. She'd moved to the city to gain some independence, to become her own person and the woman she imagined she could be. And with that in mind, she peeked up at him. "An…an invitation for what?"

His green eyes narrowed; they pressed against her like a caress. She could feel it everywhere. It was something that would generally make her uncomfortable, and while she did feel a definite flutter in her stomach, she also felt something else. Tingles and warmth that spread from the center of her belly all the way out to her fingers and toes. It was unfamiliar, and she swiftly realized, not altogether unwelcome. "To get to know me…or at least get to know my name."

"What's your name?" It was barely a whisper, but she'd said it. And even though her mouth desert-dry and she'd probably have to take a sedative to calm down, she was proud of herself.

"Edward."

"Edward," she repeated, surprised by the way it tripped off her tongue so easily. "Well, I'm…"

"Bella," he interrupted, his voice low and surprisingly gentle. "I know who you are."

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Bella had barely calmed down enough to put her groceries away when she heard the knock at her door. She almost jumped right out of her skin at the abrupt, harsh sound. No one ever came to her apartment. And even if she'd been the kind of person to ever have company, they would have to be announced by the front desk.

She hovered by the small dining table, her hands gripping the back of one of the chairs. Her apartment had an open plan, and from where she stood, she was able to see the front door. She wondered what it must be like to be a person who wasn't crippled by their own fear. She'd always been the kind of person who was scared by her own shadow. At least, that's what her mother always said.

Another knock. Only this time, it was softer…less jarring.

She stepped out of her loafers and approached the door slowly, her bare feet silent against the plush carpet. She didn't have a peep hole on her door because, in theory, she didn't need one in a secure building. She was working up the courage to ask who was there when she heard his voice through the door. "Ms. Swan…Bella, it's me. Edward."

She quickly unlocked and opened the door, which was remarkable when she actually thought about it because she always so careful about everything. However, she didn't have time to question her actions, impulsive as they were, because as her eyes focused on him, she saw he was holding a large box.

"You left without getting your mail," Edward said. "And this was delivered to you today. I figured I could bring it up while I was still here. It's pretty heavy."

Bella stood there, mute and unmoving. She was so caught off guard that he was actually there, standing at her door. She would have been surprised by anyone, but he wasn't just anyone. He was the man who made her heart pound twice a day, four days a week. And beyond that, he was also the same man with whom she'd just had the most exhilarating, nerve-wracking conversation of her life.

"Bella?" He said her name like a question, which struck her as odd. "Do you…I mean, can I… Do you want me to put this somewhere? It's kind of heavy."

"Oh, God. I'm sorry. Please," she said, stepping out of his way. "Right over here. You can put it on the table."

She followed him into the dining room, and he put the box down. "Jesus, that's heavy. What's in it?"

"Umm…" she started nervously, "books I think. My mom said she was going to send them to me. Thank you for bringing them up. You didn't have to do that."

"Well, there's no way you could have brought them up by yourself," he said with a soft chuckle. "And I was more than happy to help. Besides, you just said more words than I've ever heard you say. To be honest, I was beginning to wonder if you could speak at all."

There was a teasing tone to his voice, but Bella couldn't help but feel embarrassed by his assessment. She felt her cheeks burn like fire.

"I speak," she told him softly as she looked down at her bare feet. "Just…not a lot."

"Hey," he said, stepping in closer. She expected to feel panicked, but instead, she felt this undercurrent of humming electricity that warmed her all over. "I was only kidding. I like it when you talk."

She peeked up at him, and even though he was an immense presence in the small space of the room, the expression on his face was nowhere as intimidating as the size of his body. His eyes that had always seemed harsh looked quiet and deep.

"I've never been much of a talker."

"Me neither," he said, his voice low, honest. "Only when there's someone I _want_ to talk to."

There was no mistaking the meaning behind his words. And once again, even though she thought she should feel anxious and afraid, she didn't. Not even a little bit.

"And you…want to talk to me?"

"I'm here, aren't I?"

"But the books…" she started, only to have him cut her off.

"Were just an excuse."

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 **A/N**

 **Thanks for reading! Honestly, I'm still so shocked and humbled when people take time to read my words. I love y'all.**

 **Reviews are love.**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Edward didn't know what the fuck he was doing as he stared down into Bella's big, brown eyes. He'd been happy when she'd become so flustered downstairs that she forgot to get her mail. Not as happy as he'd been when she initiated an actual conversation, mind you. The box was just the opportunity he'd needed. And he knew that he was walking a thin line between getting her to open up and trust him just a little and scaring her off completely. But the fact was, while she still seemed a timid, nervous little thing, she hadn't asked him to leave. At least not yet. And he'd been telling the truth when he said that this was the most she'd ever spoken to him.

And God, he really wanted her to keep talking to him.

Trying not to give her an opportunity to shut him out, he asked, "Is there somewhere you need to put these? Do you have a bookshelf or something?"

She glanced quickly to a door on her left just off the living room before blushing tip-to-toe.

"The bookcase is…yeah, it's in my bedroom," she said, her voice all breathy when she said the word bedroom. His cock jumped at the sound – the sexy, fucking sound. He clamped that shit down. He wasn't here for that. Not yet anyway.

"I could carry them in there for you," he offered.

"You want…to go in my bedroom?" The sudden panic in her voice told him everything he already knew was true.

"Just for the books," he said. "You can even stay out here if that makes you feel better."

"I could just take them in a few at a time. I mean, you already carried them up here and everything. I don't want…that's not necessary."

"I want to help," he told her. "Let me."

She looked at him for a long moment, and he could see every reservation and fear inside her eyes, and just when he was about to tell her not to worry about it, she said, "Okay." And that simple, small gesture told Edward more about Bella than anything else. She was stronger and braver than she thought.

He picked up the big box, and she led him over to the door. She opened it and stepped aside, letting him walk through. The first thing he noticed about her room wasn't the muted earth tones of her comforter or the big bed against the wall in the center; instead he noticed the way it smelled. Soft and clean, delicate and feminine. Just like her.

He placed the box on the floor by the bookcase against the wall. She had a ton of books ranging from novels to scientific textbooks. He didn't know exactly what Bella did, but he curious to find out. He was curious about a lot of other things, as well.

 _One thing at a time_ , he silently reminded himself.

"Would you like me to put them on the shelf?" he asked. His voice rose so she could hear him in the other room.

She startled him by saying, "That's okay. I think I manage the rest on my own, thank you."

When he turned around, she was standing right before him. Close enough to touch. And even though he wanted to – he really fucking wanted to – he didn't. Instead he dropped his hands to his sides and offered her a smile.

"No one's ever been in my room before," she all but whispered. Hell, Edward couldn't even tell if she was talking to him or to herself. But as the truth of her words sunk in, he realized that Bella might've been much more inexperienced than he'd originally thought. He could handle inexperience, but he didn't know if he could handle a virgin. And even more, he didn't know if a virgin could handle him.

"Never?" he asked, swallowing hard.

The flush on her cheeks was instant and deep, but her eyes held his for just a moment before she looked down. "Well, not here."

"Oh." He relaxed, thankful for her insinuation, but he noticed a slight dip in his chest as he realized what it meant. He'd never been jealous, not really. Although, if he was being honest, he'd never really had anything to be jealous of. He'd had relationships over the years. Well, he'd had women in his life who were fun to be around and good in bed. But he'd never had anyone who made him feel like this. And he didn't even know what _this_ was. All he knew as he stood there looking at Bella was he didn't like the idea of another man's hands on her. But that was ridiculous, wasn't it?

"You're the only person who's ever been inside my new apartment except my parents."

"Really?"

"Yeah," she said, and he noticed she was wringing her hands.

"Don't you have any friends?" The wounded look on her face made him wish he knew when to keep his mouth shut. He hadn't meant for it to sound so accusatory, and when he really thought about it, he wasn't exactly the kind of man with a full social calendar. Hell, he couldn't remember the last time he'd had a beer that wasn't out of his own refrigerator.

"You think that's strange, don't you?"

"I don't think anything," he told her reassuringly. "Besides, you shouldn't give a fuck what anyone thinks."

Her eyes widened and then she blinked, but her little giggle at his words made him feel good. And not just good because he'd said something right, but good because he had a feeling Bella didn't laugh all that often. And even if he still couldn't understand all the reasons why, Edward knew he wanted to be the one who made her smile.

"Why…" she started, but hedged just a little. "Why are you doing this?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why did you really come up here? I don't think you do this for everyone else in the building. And I know you're not still working because you got off at six."

He was pleased and surprised to know that she knew his work schedule. It confirmed that he hadn't been wrong about all of it. She _had_ noticed him as much as he'd noticed her. And if Bella found him half as interesting as he found her… Well, that was even better.

"Can I ask you a question, Bella?"

"I guess."

"Why did you stop and talk to me today?"

She pulled the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth, biting down nervously. "I…I don't know."

Edward knew that what he was about to do could be a huge mistake, but he couldn't have stopped himself if he tried. He _had_ to touch her. He reached across the small space between them and brushed the hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. Everything, from her hair to her skin was so fucking soft. He could hear her intake of breath, sharp and quick. He hated that he'd scared her, and honestly, he didn't know what the fuck he was even thinking by doing something that stupid when she was so timid and nervous. But amazingly, she didn't push him away, so he left his hand there, his fingers gently touching the curve of her neck. He could feel the throb of her pulse beneath his fingers; he could see the flush covering her delicate neck and beautiful face. Unbidden, images of what her flushed skin might look like elsewhere flooded his mind.

"I'll tell you what," he said, his thumb gently brushing her cheek. "You think about it tonight, and tell me in the morning. But I'm pretty sure that your reasons for stopping were the same as my reasons for coming up here."

He'd never wanted to kiss someone so much in his goddamn life as he wanted to kiss her then. But Edward knew that would be way too much, too fucking soon for her, and he didn't want to scare her off. So, with as much self-control as he could gather, he pulled away, but before he left, he added, "Goodnight. I'll see you in the morning."

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 **A/N**

 **OMGoodness! Thanks so much for reading and for all the sweet reviews. I can't tell you how much it means when you take the time to do it. I love that y'all seem to love this E and B. I really loved writing them. Happy New Year to all of you! I hope it's an amazing one.**

 **Reviews are love.**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Bella found it difficult to settle down enough to sleep that night. She could still feel the imprint of his hand on her skin, the traces of fire that lingered where his fingers had gently touched her neck. It still burned – sparking hot and bright – just underneath the surface. It was something she hadn't expected, that feeling. The electricity she felt when he'd touched her was both terrifying and _soothing_. The former was expected, but the latter… Well, she'd done nothing but replay it in her mind since the moment he'd left.

No one had ever touched her like that. Well, no _man_ had ever touched her like that. Unless you counted her father. But Edward's touch had been different from the gentle affection of her father. And not just for all the obvious reasons. The truth was that no man had ever touched Bella, her anxiety always a barrier she could never get past. She'd never had a normal, physical relationship with anyone of the opposite sex. She winced at the thought of the word.

 _Normal._

Her therapist didn't like when she used that word.

The truth of it remained, though. An ever-present reminder, constantly in the back of her mind, that normal was something she'd never have. How could she when no man had ever gotten close enough to try? Except now that wasn't true because _he_ had.

Edward.

He'd come close – closer than she'd ever allowed anyone – and she let him in. Not just into her apartment, but into her personal space. She allowed it, and beyond that, beyond everything, including her severe panic disorder, she wanted him there.

Bella continued to ponder the evening's events as she watched the time pass on the glow of her alarm clock. She touched her neck in the same place he had, and as the darkness of night enveloped her, she finally surrendered to sleep with a singular thought in her mind.

Would it happen again?

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Edward couldn't stop looking at the elevator, waiting for it to open. The lobby was usually quiet at this time in the morning. In fact, Bella was usually the first person he saw on the days he worked. He looked down at his watch again. He was agitated, he realized, wondering which woman was going to approach him. Would it be the bashful Ms. Swan? The one who was too nervous to meet his eyes, and rushed past him on her way out to work. Or would it be the brave woman from her apartment? The one who stood so close to him he could smell the delicate scent of her perfume. The same one who'd let him touch her for only the briefest moment.

The chime of the elevator left him no time decide.

He'd stopped breathing, he realized, as he watched her step out into the lobby. Her head was down, and her chestnut hair covered her face.

God, he wanted to see her face.

She looked much the same as she always did. Unassuming, professional clothes, and shoes that were far too practical for a woman who made him lose his breath. She paused for just a moment, just long enough to make him wonder if he should approach her. But then she pushed forward, her feet moving so quickly it made her stumble. And Edward wasn't close enough to keep her from falling.

And she did.

Hard.

Without even thinking, he was at her side, offering her his hand to help her up. To his delighted surprise, he heard her utter a filthy word he would have never expected to come from her beautiful mouth. And just as he expected, her face flamed bright red, coloring her cheeks and all along the line of her neck. She finally looked up at him and met his eyes, and his heart dropped. Her eyes filled with unshed tears, as she said, "Excuse me."

"Are you okay?" he asked, wondering why she hadn't taken his hand. He reached out to grab her elbow, wanting nothing more than to help her up, but he felt her whole body tense, and she frantically, almost violently, scrambled back away from him.

"I'm…I'm fine." She stammered, angrily wiping the tears that had fallen on her cheeks with the back of her hands. Only, Edward could tell that she wasn't. He stilled, crouched down by the tile floor, watching, as the woman he'd done nothing but think about for the last twenty-four hours stood up and walked a wide path around him toward the door.

She was gone before he moved.

And he fought the urge to go after her, even though it made him feel like ten thousand kinds of assholes, because something inside him warned that would be the absolute worst thing he could do.

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" _Fuck_ ," Bella whispered to herself as she walked the five blocks to work. " _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck_." The words punctuated each step she took away from the building where she lived.

The building where _he_ worked.

She should have known something like this would happen. She'd been a nervous wreck all morning, knowing he would be downstairs when she left. She'd decided she was going to speak to him again, the euphoric feeling from the previous night still lingering in her thoughts…and against her skin.

She'd been so stupid to think that what had happened between them wasn't some sadistic anomaly. She laughed bitterly as her thoughts drifted to _normalcy_ , and what it might be like to have a relationship with a man. One where her anxiety wasn't so crippling she could have an actual conversation, or the physical contact she'd finally admitted she was craving. Even if she'd only admitted it to herself in the darkness of her own bedroom.

 _Of course_ she would fall.

 _Of course_ she would freak out when he reached for her, even though deep down she knew he was only trying to help. She'd just been so embarrassed, so completely mortified that she'd fallen. It wasn't even about his touch. Not completely, anyway. In fact, even through her sweater and shirt, she could still feel the same energy she'd felt when he touched her skin.

But none of it mattered now because she'd freaked out, and now, there was no way he'd ever try to touch her again. Or even talk to her for that matter.

She was in a full-blown panic attack by the time she reached the lab. She opened her messenger bag and took out the little pill case that held the thing she needed most – Ativan. She swallowed it without any water, and sat down at her desk. She would normally go home whenever something like this happened. But _he_ was at her home, so now she would have to stay at the lab all day, and hope that she'd be able to function.

Thankful that she mostly worked alone, Bella laid her head on the desk, took slow, deep breaths, and waited for the medicine to kick in.

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 **A/N**

 **Please don't kill me, lovelies.**

 **I'm still giddy from the response to this fic. Thank you for reading and sharing your thoughts and feelings about Bella and Edward.**

 **I love hearing what you think so much.**

 **See you tomorrow!**

 **Reviews are love.**

 **PS: Huge thanks to Dr. Raina for lending her medical knowledge to me for this fic.**

 **It was important to me that I depict Bella's panic disorder and social anxiety accurately.**

 **She helped me do that.**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

By six-fifteen, Edward had given up on the hope that Bella would show up. Besides, he'd run out of reasons to keep him at work since his replacement was already there.

She was avoiding him.

And the more he thought about that, the more irritated he became. And then, he was irritated that he was irritated. She didn't owe him anything, and considering the fiasco that happened that morning, he couldn't necessarily blame her for not wanting to see him. Even if he'd done nothing but think about her for the entire goddamn day. Reluctantly, he headed home. But as he walked to his apartment, he couldn't get the nagging thought out of his mind that something might be wrong.

Bella's life had a pattern – one he'd become all too familiar with since she'd moved into the building. She came and went at the same times every day. She didn't seem like the kind of person who would deviate from structure. She never had visitors. She'd basically told him in her apartment that she didn't have any friends. So, what could possibly be keeping her out this late? Or who?

Edward was worried.

And even worse, he was worried with no way of knowing how to find her. It was frustrating, he realized, that he knew something as personal as where she lived, but knew nothing of where she worked or even what she did. And with that, came the other more startling realization that Edward was obsessing over a woman he knew very little about, actually. But then he remembered the way she'd bravely let him inside her home the previous night, the way she looked when he touched her – all wide expressive eyes and rapid pulse. And he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that her response hadn't been from fear. She _wanted_ him there. He fucking _knew_ it.

And that was what made him turn around and head back.

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Bella waited until she knew Edward would be gone to head home from work. She knew it wasn't rational, but that was just it, wasn't it? She _wasn't_ rational. That part of her brain didn't work when it came to him, apparently.

She'd made it through the day as best as she could given the circumstances. And by the time her watch read seven, she was exhausted from work, exhausted from the events of the morning, and just exhausted from her life in general. Why did everything have to be so complicated? _Why did she have to make everything more complicated?_ she thought caustically.

She realized what a mistake waiting had been when she walked outside, only to realize that it was already getting dark. She never walked the city streets alone at night, particularly when she was taking anxiety medicine. The edges of the world were a bit fuzzy, yet given her nervous tendencies, she was still tense and on edge.

"Five blocks," she whispered to herself, as she walked toward her building, keeping her head down as usual. It wasn't even that late, and there were still plenty of people making their own way through the city. She tried to remember all the reasons she'd wanted to move here in the first place as she walked. She thought about how determined she was to live on her own and be independent. This was what she wanted, wasn't it?

Yes.

Yes, it was.

The relief was palpable when her building came into view. And for the first time in five blocks, she was able to breathe deeply. Her comfort was short lived, as a tall figure stepped from the shadows.

"Where have you been?"

The sound she made was somewhere between a whisper and a yelp, and she jumped, unable to control her response. Her whole body was on edge, as her eyes adjusted and Edward's face came into view.

Even though it was mostly dark, Bella realized she could see just how green his eyes were. Not only that, she saw an intensity in those eyes she'd never seen before. It did nothing to ease her rising panic.

"Jesus," he whispered harshly. "I'm…god." He reached out, grabbing her hands, and though her initial instinct was to pull away, there was something so immediately soothing about his touch, she found herself clinging to his hands tightly.

"Fuck," he said lowly. "I'm sorry, Bella. I didn't mean to scare you like that."

She couldn't even find words to speak. She just stood there, looking up at him when she suddenly realized she was still clutching his hands. Only, with more than a bit of wonder, she realized he was clutching hers, too. She wanted to marvel at the feeling of it, his skin against hers. It wasn't gentle like his touch the evening before. He was holding onto her roughly, almost protectively.

"What are you…" she finally managed to form words. "I mean, you're supposed to be…"

"What?" he asked.

"Gone."

.

.

Edward didn't want to think about her response, because honestly, that shit would piss him off. He knew she'd been upset earlier, but deep down he'd hoped that she wouldn't stay away just so she wouldn't have to see him. He was just so relieved to know she was okay, and that nothing had happened to her. But then it hit him that he'd grabbed her like she wasn't skittish as all fuck, like she hadn't run away from him like he was something out of a goddamn nightmare this morning.

"I'm sorry," he said, realizing how stupid he'd been, and wishing he could go back and make a better decision. One that didn't involve waiting for her outside in the dark like a fucking stalker. Jesus, what the fuck had he been thinking? "I didn't mean to just grab you like that."

He was going to pull away, but he felt the gentle squeeze of her hands inside his, and as soon as he realized she might not have a problem with it, she said, "It's okay. It's…good."

Those four words were almost as soothing as the presence of the woman standing before him. He was so goddamn happy she was okay – happier than he was readily willing to admit. It was new, this feeling. Not the protective way he always felt where she was concerned, but the feeling that she just might be okay with it. At least, it seemed like she was in this particular moment. So, Edward decided to be honest. "I was worried about you when you didn't come home. Especially after…" he stopped, not wanting to remind her of the events from the morning.

She winced, and he knew he should've kept is fucking mouth shut. He didn't want to embarrass her or make her feel bad. But truth be told, he really wanted to know what made her react like that when he was only trying to help her.

"I had to…work late."

He knew she was lying because she looked down on the last two words.

"You never work late," he hedged.

"I just…" she started, still looking down, so he finished for her, "You just didn't want to see me."

Her wide eyes shot up to his, and just for a moment, he wondered if he had it all wrong.

"It's just that…I was embarrassed."

"Embarrassed because you fell?" he asked.

"No," she huffed, blowing a forceful breath. Her face scrunched up like she was trying to solve a puzzle, which was fucking ridiculous to Edward because _he_ was the one who was confused. She was the most confounding woman he'd ever known. Except that was just it, wasn't it? He _didn't_ know her. Not really. Not the way he wanted to. And he knew that he needed to tread lightly here because how he handled this right now would likely impact his chances of really getting to know her in the future.

And Edward really wanted to get to know her.

"Can we just…" she said, her eyes darting all around them. "Do we have to do this out here? Could we maybe go inside? Like, to…my apartment?"

Edward tried not to smile. He really fucking did. But he failed miserably. He watched her face, trying to read her reaction. She wasn't necessarily smiling, but she was still holding his hands. He decided that was good enough for him.

"If that's what you want."

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.

.

 **A/N**

 **I can't tell you how much it means to me that some of you are sharing your own personal stories of how much you relate to Bella.**

 **I wish I could give all of you a hug.**

 **The response has been amazing. More than I hoped for, to be honest.**

 **I'm so happy you're reading. It makes me want to write more.**

 **Reviews are love.**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Bella's hand trembled as she attempted to put the key in the lock of her apartment door. Edward was standing right behind her, and even though he wasn't too close, she could feel the heat of his body all along the entire back of her own.

"May I?" he asked. And even though he didn't lean in any closer than he already was, the sound of his voice sent a shiver through here that she felt _everywhere_.

She dropped the keys.

She bent over and picked them up, and when she did, her butt pressed up against him. _Right there_. She scooted away quickly, handing him her keys, mumbling, "Sorry," in the process. She couldn't even look at him when she told him, "It's uh…the blue one."

He opened the door, standing to the side so she could walk in first. She placed her messenger bag on the chair by the door, and when she turned around, he was closing the door with a soft click.

"Did you…ummm….maybe want to sit?" she asked. "I could get you something to drink if you like."

"Sure," he said softly. "What do you have?"

"Well, there's juice or water," she offered, whishing she had something more adult to offer him in her kitchen. The truth was Bella never really drank anything alcoholic. She wasn't supposed to with some of her medication. "Or I could make us some tea."

"What do you usually have?" he asked.

"Tea, usually."

"Then I guess we'll have tea."

"Okay."

"Okay." His soft smile calmed her nerves.

He made his way to the couch, seeming to understand that she needed a moment to collect herself. At least, that was how she chose to take it. She walked slowly to the kitchen, grabbed the red teapot from the stove and began filling it with water. She couldn't help but peek over her shoulder to see what he was doing, smiling when she saw him leaning back on the couch, his arm draped over the back. He looked comfortable. Bella liked the idea that he was comfortable in her home very much.

She wondered if she should go to sit with him while the water boiled, but she decided to take that extra time to breathe deeply and collect herself before she did. When she was finished making the tea, she took one last deep breath, picked up the cups and headed to the living room.

"It's peppermint," she said, nodding to the cup that looked too small as she placed it in his big hand. "I uh…didn't know if you wanted sugar because I never do."

"However you're drinking it will be just fine."

She looked at the empty space next to him on her couch before flicking her eyes to the chair on the other side. Seeming to sense her dilemma, Edward sighed and then said, "Look, I don't want you to be uncomfortable. So if you want to sit in the chair, don't feel like you have to sit next to me."

And a part of her really wanted to sit in the chair, but another part, a bigger part, wanted to sit next to him. She was still fascinated by the feeling she had when he'd held her hands earlier, and she wondered if she'd have those same feelings again. Not that she expected him to hold her hand again.

.

.

Edward watched her careful appraisal of him and the couch, wondering what she would do. The truth was he wanted her to sit next him. But the other truth was he didn't know how smart that would be, especially after that little stunt in the hall where she'd basically pressed her ass against his dick when she bent over to get her keys.

He'd never actively willed his cock to stand down that much in his life.

His eyes widened when she carefully sat down beside him. Her eyes were downcast, and he tried really fucking hard not to let that bother him. She had just freely chosen to be close to him when she could have easily taken the chair.

"I umm…" she started, still refusing to meet his gaze. "I guess I owe you an explanation."

He took a drink of the peppermint tea, surprised he didn't actually hate it, and then he placed it on the table in front of them. Speaking softly, he said, "You don't owe me anything, Bella." It was the truth. And he wanted her to know he knew she didn't actually owe him shit. "But I wouldn't mind knowing what happened this morning. That is, you know, if you want to tell me."

"It's complicated."

"I think I can keep up."

"I told you," she mumbled, looking at her teacup like it possessed the secrets of the universe, when all he wanted was for her to look at him. The same way she'd looked at him in this very room the night before. "It's embarrassing."

"Because you fell?" he asked. Again. He felt like they were right back where they were on the sidewalk in front of the building. And what was the big deal about falling anyway? "People fall all the time, Bella. It's no big deal."

"You don't–I'm not…" she paused, blowing out a short, hard breath. He could feel her starting to tense back up beside him, and that was the last fucking thing he wanted. He was at a loss, but one thing was certain, he knew he couldn't fuck this up. "It's not _just_ because I fell." She placed her own cup of tea next to his. "And not all people fall all the time. You probably don't." She met his eyes for the first time since she sat down, and the indignation Edward saw there made him smile.

"You're right," he agreed. "I don't. But still, it was just a fall."

"You don't get it," she said, her gentle voice taking on a slight edge of frustration. "It's not just that I fell. I fell because I was nervous, and I was nervous – even more than usual – because I knew…" she stopped short.

Edward reached across the space between them and gently took her hand inside his. He felt more than heard her little gasp when he did. "Because you knew?"

He let his question hang in the air, as he did something else, something small. Something _so_ small that most people wouldn't even notice it. But he _knew_ Bella would. He gently stroked the palm of her hand with his thumb. And he waited, almost certain he could feel the increase in her pulse.

"Because I knew I would see you," she answered quietly.

Edward experienced a lot of things at her small admission. His chest expanded and tightened. That overwhelming need he always felt to protect her swelled inside him, but the biggest thing he experienced was the understanding that her words hadn't been a small admission at all. It was fucking huge. And it was more than he'd given her.

"Would it help you to know that I was nervous, too?" he asked.

"You were?" she asked, and the hope in her small voice fucking destroyed him. And as he looked into her brown expressive eyes, he realized that there was nothing in the world he wouldn't do for the woman sitting next to him.

"Yes," he admitted, and because he wanted to give her more, he added, "And not just today, Bella. Every single day since I watched you move in."

.

.

.

 **A/N**

 **Welp.**

 **Baby Steps.**

 **Y'all know I'm not generally about the baby steps.**

 **Thank you for reading, for every single review. You can't know how much I love reading them, and how much encouragement they give me.**

 **Full disclosure: the characters aren't mine, but the words are. Except for the few canon words I borrowed from SM. I hope you smiled when/if you noticed them. :)**

 **Reviews are love.**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Bella looked up and stared at Edward with what she was certain was a gobsmacked expression. His eyes seemed sincere, like the words he'd just said were actually true. And for a moment, she wondered if he was mind-reader.

Did he know how those words would affect her?

Could he possibly know it was exactly what she needed to hear?

It wasn't just his words, though. It was the way he was holding her hand – holding it and stroking her palm. And the same feeling was there again. The same soothing hum of electricity that she'd never experienced when someone else touched her. It didn't make her nervous. It didn't trigger panic of any sort. It did, however, trigger other things. Other…unexpected and unfamiliar feelings.

"I didn't mean to frighten you this morning," he said, interrupting her thoughts. "The last thing I wanted was to make you run off like that."

Bella took a deep breath. She supposed she needed to be honest, especially since he was being so honest, too. "You didn't make me run off. That was all me."

"What do you mean?"

She twisted her body around on the couch so she could face him directly. She never really talked about this with anyone other than her parents and therapist. She'd never been close enough to anyone who might want to know these things about her. And the idea that Edward could be someone she should want to share this part of her life with was more than a little terrifying. Because what if he didn't understand?

"I…ran off," she started. Her heart was pounding, and her shallow breathing made her mouth dry. "You see, sometimes I have panic attacks."

"And that was what happened this morning?" he asked. His expression was concerned, but his eyes held no judgment. At least, not that she could tell.

"It might be better if you just let me get this out," she said. "It's… _difficult_ for me to talk about. Especially with someone I don't know."

He nodded, turning his body to match her position on the couch. And that one little action meant more to Bella than she could probably ever articulate. It made her feel like maybe he really did want to be there with her. And maybe, she would be able to tell him the truth.

"You see, whenever I have one, everything is harder for me. Sometimes, I find it difficult to focus. Sometimes, it's hard to breathe. And when it happens, any extra… _stimulation_ …makes everything much more exaggerated and even harder to deal with. And this morning when I fell, you were there, and I was so….just _so embarrassed_ by my own inability to even _cope_. And you were there, _seeing_ all of it. And then you reached out to touch me and I just couldn't… _take it_ ," she said, taking in a deep, shaky breath. "And I just…had to get out of there. Does that make any sense?"

"So, you're saying that I made this worse for you this morning," he said sadly.

"No," she told him quickly. "You don't understand. I mean, yes, you being there was bad, but this isn't…it wasn't about you. It's _just_ me. This is just how I am. I'm nervous all the time except when I'm alone. Being around people is… _challenging_. I take medication to help, and maybe it _does_ help. I don't know, I can't really tell sometimes. But my point is that none of this was… _is_ about you. This is just who I am. And I don't think it will ever change. I mean, well, it hasn't changed in my whole life. I mean, I can't remember a time when I _wasn't_ like this. And it's been okay up 'til now. It hasn't really mattered because there hasn't been anyone I wanted to…" she stopped before she said too much. Maybe she already had.

She waited for him to pull away, to make some excuse and see himself out. But he didn't move. He just sat on her couch, looking at her and holding her hand. He was _still_ holding her hand, and she didn't know what that meant. And then he asked, "There hasn't been anyone you wanted to what, Bella?"

Of course he would ask that question.

 _Of course_ he would.

She closed her eyes and counted to ten, breathing deeply the whole time. And when she looked up into his eyes, it was with a sort of wonder that his expression was just the same as before. Like he wasn't about to run out of her apartment because she was too much crazy to deal with. Like he actually might really want to still be there.

And so she told him the truth.

"Anyone I wanted to be close to," she breathed. "Anyone I wanted to really know."

.

.

Edward had never wanted to pull anyone against him just to hold her there. Just to feel her in his arms and offer her comfort.

Until that moment.

Until Bella Swan.

She was like a hummingbird – fragile and frantic and fucking beautiful.

She told him she wanted to be close to him. And based on everything else she'd just said, telling him that was probably really fucking hard, so he told her the truth. "I want to be close to you, too."

As soon as he said the words, he knew they were true. Hell, he'd known them to be true even before. But now, Edward knew more. He didn't know everything, and he assumed she was probably editing some stuff out. But nothing she'd said made him want her any less. In fact, the idea that she was honest enough to tell him now showed that she was strong – stronger than she gave herself credit for.

And that made him want her even more.

"Really?" she asked. "You do? Even after everything I just told you?"

He laughed – he couldn't help it. "It's not like you told me you're a murderer, Bella. You told me you have anxiety."

"Actually," she hedged, taking a deep breath. "I have panic disorder and severe social anxiety."

Edward took in her words. He didn't know what 'panic disorder' was, but social anxiety seemed like something he could probably relate to. "Can I ask you a question?"

"I mean, I guess." She bit down on her bottom lip.

"Are you…panicking right now?"

"No," she said softly. "But I'm nervous."

"I told you, I'm nervous, too," he admitted. Part of him was hoping it would help her find some sort of common ground with him. And another part of him just wanted to be honest. Because he _was_ nervous. Nervous he would say or do the wrong thing. Nervous that he would somehow fuck up this little bubble they seemed to be inside where he was able to sit this close to her, holding her hand, alone in her apartment. "I guess what I'm trying to ask – what I want to know is – are you scared of being alone with me? Does any of this make you uncomfortable?"

She looked at him, all sheepish smiles, with eyes that held secrets he couldn't discern. And fuck, but he wanted to.

"It's strange," she said quietly, though as intensely as he was listening, it could have easily been a shout. "I'm…not. This isn't – you don't…it's hard to explain." She squeezed his hand, her touch tender, but the additional compression made him stupid with wanting. "Do you feel that?" she asked. "That…I don't know. It's like, I have a hard time with just _proximity_ to people. Like my personal space needs personal space. But this…" she paused, picking up his hand, and delicately stroked his thumb between her fingers. His breath caught, and he fought to control his body's reaction to her seemingly innocent touch. Because what Edward was feeling in that moment was anything but innocent. "This is different. It feels different when you touch me. It's…like electric or something. Like, exciting and soothing all at the same time."

Edward didn't say anything at first, mostly because he was shocked she was still being so open with him, and also because her touch was making him feel a thousand different things he couldn't wrap his mind around. And then he realized maybe he _did_ understand what she was talking about. He'd never had trouble with physical contact, but whenever she touched him, especially the way she was currently touching him, it _was_ different. Because _she_ was different.

Bella affected him in a completely different way than any other woman he'd ever known.

"You probably think I sound crazy," she said.

"No," he said quickly, wanting to reassure her, even as he worked all this out in his mind. "Not at all."

He realized it was likely that Bella had never actually touched anyone she was attracted to…physically. And in all honesty, that really fucked with his mind to a great degree. Because, here he was, wanting nothing more than to cross the small space between them and kiss the shit out of her. Wanting to feel her fingers wrapped around something entirely different than his thumb. But that would be stupid as all fuck, and he would end up scaring her even more than she had been before. And he couldn't stomach the thought of doing something that would scare her. Not when she'd just admitted that she liked his touch.

Well, she hadn't said she liked it. She said it was soothing.

But she also said it was exciting.

 _Hadn't she?_

Could she possibly be feeling exactly what he was feeling?

"What are you thinking?" she said, her voice so small it was almost a whisper.

"I was thinking there was something I wanted to try."

.

.

.

 **A/N**

 **I know the day is almost over, but I'm posting before midnight, so it still counts as a new chapter every day.**

 **Thanks to Marvar, who edited at a bonfire in the desert in the rain. She wins all the best friend awards. She's also pretty, and funny, and mostly just amazing in general.**

 **Y'all, I love how much you love this B and E. Thank you for reading, and for caring enough to take the time to tell me what you think. (smooshes all of you to my boobs)**

 **See you tomorrow!**

 **Reviews are love.**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Bella couldn't stop the reckless way her heart was beating. Like it was going to come right out of her chest. It was the way he was looking at her, she thought. Or the way he didn't seem to mind how she was touching him, even after all the things she'd just confessed.

But his eyes – his eyes. They were deep green, with no trace of the hardness she'd imagined was there all those times she passed him in the lobby before they'd ever spoken. No, they were soft and dark and open. Like maybe he understood what she told him, and maybe he still wanted to be here with her anyway.

He brought his hand up to her face, tucking her hair behind her ear. But his hand, it just lingered there, his thumb gently stroking her cheek that suddenly felt too hot. She found herself leaning into his touch, seeking out the comfort and warmth of what he was offering like a cat seeking out affection. It was an intimacy unlike anything she'd ever experienced.

And Bella realized she _craved_ it.

Not just his touch, but something more.

Anticipation hung thick and heavy in the air, as a silent request passed from his eyes to hers. And even though she wasn't sure what to expect, she knew she wanted it.

He hesitated, uncertainty clouding his expression for just a moment, and Bella, scared that he would pull back, simply whispered, "Please."

And then he pressed his mouth against hers. It was soft at first – his warm, wet lips gently pulling at her own that felt too dry, too stiff, and far too unpracticed. And then she felt her head swim. Her blood rushed, bubbling up under her skin, radiating a heated flush that seemed to touch every part of her body. Deep, dormant places that had gone unnoticed and ignored for too long.

Her reaction was unexpected, but she found that she couldn't control it. She opened her mouth, his name a soft gasp on her lips. And in that moment, he kissed her fully, and Bella realized that what was happening before wasn't a kiss. Not a real one. Because the feeling of Edward's tongue slipping inside her mouth and pressing against her own was a revelation for which she never could have prepared.

She reached up, clutching his face, almost like she could pull him even deeper into her. And he just let her, not only that, but he was pulling at her, too. Not just her body, but her fragile heart and chaotic mind. He groaned her name, and just the sound of it coming from his low voice, filled with as much need as she was feeling was enough to make her ache.

He tasted like peppermint tea and desire. And it was desire she'd never known.

And Bella wanted more.

More of his taste, more of his voice saying her name, and more of his touch that sent electric shocks all throughout her body. And before she could even stop to question her need, she pressed herself fully against him, pushing up on her knees and running her hands through his surprisingly soft hair.

Nothing about Edward before this moment seemed soft. Yet so much about him was, she realized. Not just his hair, but they way he panted into her mouth, the way his arms wrapped around her, keeping her close to him as he kissed and kissed and kissed her.

And then, just when she thought she could never get enough, she realized it was all too much.

.

.

Edward felt the exact moment she tensed up because up until that moment, she'd been liquid fire in his hands. Her full lips pressing against his own, her hungry mouth open and urgent, kissing him back, and whimpering his name. She'd all but crawled in his lap, and holy hell, he'd never wanted anything more.

It was the greatest kiss of his goddamn life.

And he had to fucking pull back to stop it because it was all too much for her.

When he'd initially kissed her, he hadn't intended it to go so far. But then, there was no way he could have expected just how responsive Bella would be. He'd been so worried he would scare her off, only planning on kissing her gently. And he _had_ to kiss her. He had to show her that he didn't give a single fuck about the things she told him. Not that he didn't care, but that none of it really mattered or affected the way he felt about her.

She was just sitting there, stroking his hand, and seeming like she really wanted it – wanted something – and Edward wanted to be the one to give it to her. Especially when she'd already given him so much – all the little pieces of herself he doubted she'd ever shown anyone.

But she showed him.

It was with that in mind, that he pulled back, feeling her trembling body in his hands. She opened her eyes, big and brown and wild. And just for a moment, as he looked into those eyes, he couldn't tell if she was shaking from nerves or from arousal.

Because he was fucking was.

Hell, he was fucking trembling from how much he wanted her.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, reaching up to push back the hair that had fallen across her face. "I didn't mean…"

"That was…" she interrupted him, but she didn't shy away from his touch. And that alone gave him more hope than he had any right to.

"Too much?" he asked, the hope inside him silently begging her to tell him no.

"A lot," she said slowly, taking in a deep breath. She licked her swollen lips, and he couldn't help but stare, wanting nothing more than to kiss them again. "You kissed me."

Her voice held an air of wonder he wasn't expecting, and maybe, _just fucking maybe_ , he hadn't fucked this up beyond all repair.

"I did," he agreed, then added in a lower voice, "and you kissed me back."

"Yeah," she said. "A lot, apparently."

Her blush radiated bright red heat that he could feel against his hand. But it was her expression, all shy and embarrassed, that made him say, "I liked it, though – the way you kissed. Even though it was…unexpected."

"Unexpected," she repeated the word. "Is that a bad thing?"

"No, never," he said solemnly. "It was unexpected when you talked to me yesterday. And we both know I liked that."

"I didn't know, not really."

"I came to your apartment after," he challenged.

"To bring books."

"I told you that was an excuse."

She bit down on her bottom lip, and Edward almost groaned with the need to be the one doing that.

"Well, let me set you straight," he said. "I like it when you do anything that brings you closer to me."

He let the words hang there between them, his eyes open and sincere. He wanted her to know the truth, and more importantly, he wanted her to _feel_ it.

"You say that like you mean it," she finally said.

"I do," he said. "I can't pretend to know everything you're feeling right now. About this, about everything that happened today, but I want to make something really clear here, Bella. I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be. And after the way you just kissed me, I'm feeling a whole lot of things that would probably freak you out if you knew." He felt the slight tension in her neck at his words, but he pressed on. "But I _am_ feeling them, and based on your reaction a few minutes ago, I'm pretty fucking certain you're feeling them, too. Even if it scares you. And that puts me in a really tough position because I don't _want_ to scare you. I don't _want_ to push you too hard or too fast. So, I'm willing to let you lead, but just, for the record, or whatever, if you kiss me like that again, I won't be the one to stop. Because I like the way you feel pressed up against me, and I like the little sounds you make when you're turned on. Because you were, weren't you? When I was kissing you and licking your lips and sucking your tongue, you were just as turned on as I was. Hell, as I _am_."

Her pulse raced beneath his fingers, but she didn't pull away. He could see the questions in her eyes, like she really couldn't believe what he was telling her. And that was so frustrating because it was the fucking truth. He'd never wanted a woman so much in his life, and his dick was goddamn granite in his pants.

"You were…you're turned on?"

He took her hand, and keeping his eyes locked on hers, he slowly dragged it down his chest, and pressed her palm against his cock.

"You feel that, Bella?"

She nodded, her eyes widening.

"That's what you do to me." He had to fight the urge to grind against her hand like a fucking teenager. "And if I'd let you crawl up in my lap, you would have felt it then, too. Only then, you'd have felt it against your pussy."

.

.

.

 **A/N**

 **I know, I know!**

 **This is late!**

 **But if you only knew the fucking long and ridiculous day I had at work yesterday.**

 **Anyway, I'm back, and posting early today. And I hope you liked their first kiss because I sure as hell enjoyed writing it. One of the things I loved most about B/E's first kiss in the book was how over-excited and carried away she got. And I think we can all agree that the first kiss in the movie was the best damn kiss of all. Anyway, this is me kinda paying tribute to that.**

 **As ever, Marvar is amazing. She makes me look like I know what I'm doing.**

 **And of course, thanks for reading. You're all so pretty and you have nice boobs. Happy Monday!**

 **Reviews are love.**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Bella was exhausted, but she couldn't sleep. This was problematic because her day – from beginning to end – had truly been taxing. She kept playing Edward's words over and over in her mind. Not just his words, but his actions, as well.

Had he really done all those things?

Had he really said those words?

She knew that he had, of course. She knew it because it was all there, tattooed in her memory. A memory that now contained the feeling of him holding her hand, the way his lips felt pressing against hers, the way he tasted…the rigid heat of his erection against her palm.

 _Jesus._

That actually happened.

She died a little at the thought.

But there was something else there, as well. A pulsing between her legs she'd never known. Bella had been aroused before. Usually from something she'd read, or particular scenes from movies she watched over the years. Arousal wasn't new to her, but being aroused from something happening _to_ her in her _actual_ life was another thing entirely.

It was terrifying.

However, as terrifying as it was, the fact that Edward made sure she knew he was feeling the same way had turned all of her alarm into something else.

Something glorious.

He'd gone just an hour before. There'd been no additional touching or kisses. No, he'd left her with nothing but the knowledge that he wanted more. He used that word.

 _More_.

As if she could even imagine what more might entail. But in the privacy of her bedroom, she allowed herself to think about what it might look like. She thought about him saying he would see her in the morning, adding that he wouldn't tell her not to be nervous. He'd been so sincere when he said it, which made her heart stutter and beat as if trying to find a different rhythm than the one it had known all her life. And as they stood at her front door, Edward made her promise that even if she _was_ nervous, she wouldn't avoid him.

She made that promise.

And Bella Swan always kept her word.

When she walked out of the elevator into the lobby the next morning, she found his eyes immediately. He looked all sharp and crisp in his uniform, and she didn't think she'd ever seen anyone so handsome. He didn't say a word as she approached, and the silence between them was weighted with everything that had transpired the night before, the air charged with the same electricity. And even though Bella was nervous, she found that she wanted to approach him instead of quickly walking out the door as she'd done so many mornings before.

She clutched her messenger bag until her fingers hurt. As if it was the only tangible thing indicating all this was real and not some dream.

"Good morning," she said softly.

"Good morning, Bella," he said, his tone matching her own. "You look tired."

She didn't even feel the need to be embarrassed because it was probably really true. She _was_ tired, even if she felt more awake than ever. But he seemed to realize what he said, adding, "Damn – shit, I mean…." He ran his hand through his hair that was more unruly than usual. And it was something to watch this man who made her so nervous to actually look and sound nervous himself. She wanted to smile. She may have just a little. "Can I start over?" he asked.

But Bella didn't want him to start over.

"It's okay," she assured him. "I am a little tired."

"Me too," he said, a slightly crooked smile lifting the corners of his mouth. "But what I meant to say was that you look really pretty."

Bella's face flamed at his words, and she realized something pretty fundamental about herself in that moment – she didn't like compliments. She hadn't had much experience with them before this, but she couldn't imagine she would ever like them, or get used to the uncomfortable way they made her feel.

"Umm…thanks," she mumbled, biting down on her bottom lip. Unable to maintain eye contact, she glanced over to the table in the corner of the lobby.

"Hey," he said, pulling her attention back to him. "I mean it."

"I look the same way I always do."

"And I always think it," he said. "I thought we covered this already."

He reached out for just a second like he wanted to touch her, but he dropped has hand quickly, as if he thought better of it. And that made her feel even more self-conscious because, she realized, she _did_ want him to touch her again. Even if the idea that he might want to was still terrifying to her.

"I probably shouldn't do that here," he said, looking around the lobby. "I mean, I'm working."

"That's not… I mean," she stumbled over the words clumsily. "It's okay. You're right, of course."

"But I want to." He said the words with such honest intensity, she could hardly deny them. "So, I was wondering if maybe you'd like to…I don't know…go to dinner with me tonight or something?"

"Like, out?" she asked. "At a restaurant?"

"Yeah," he said. "Out…you know, on a date."

Her heart pounded recklessly in her chest, as if it had little concern that the endless beating thumps made it difficult for her to breathe.

"I don't…I don't know," she managed to get the words out.

"I just thought that after last night," he trailed off, his expression crestfallen. And she didn't want to be the person who made him look like that.

"I just, I don't do so well in public places," she admitted, wondering when he was going to realize she was too much, had too many issues to make all of this worth it. "All the people…"

"We could go somewhere quiet," he suggested.

"I cook," she blurted out too quickly. "I mean…I mean I can make us dinner if you…wanted to come over again."

His smile was warm. "I don't want you to cook on our first date."

"I don't mind."

"The cooking or the date?"

"Either."

"How about this," he said, his smile wider than it was before. Bella liked when he smiled like that. It made her want to smile the same way in return. And it was possible she did. "What if I come over around seven-thirty with takeout? That way, you don't have to cook."

"I don't mind cooking."

"Well, then you can cook for our second date," he said. "If you want."

"Okay."

"Did you just agree to a second date with me?"

 _Was he flirting?_

 _Is this what flirting was like?_

Bella realized she didn't know how to flirt. She didn't even know if that's what was actually happening.

"Maybe," she said, her face flaming. "I mean, I think so. That is…if you still want a second date after tonight. You… I don't know. You might not."

"I will," he said solemnly.

And she believed him.

"Okay."

"See you tonight, Bella."

"See you tonight, Edward."

She walked out of her building and made her way to work, and even though she kept her head down the same way she did every day, her mind was filled with thoughts of _more_ with Edward.

.

.

Edward was relieved by how well the morning had gone. He wasn't sure what to expect, especially given everything that happened the morning before. But he was hopeful, considering everything that went down between the two of them the previous night.

He'd gone home, hard as fuck, and took care of that shit in the shower. All while remembering how she'd felt against him, how she tasted. And it was those memories that made him come on his own stomach like a teenager who'd never been with a woman. But that was what Bella made him feel like. He'd never been with someone so responsive, and while that was hot as hell, he was goddamn sure that Bella didn't know what do with her own reaction. So, she sure as hell wasn't ready for his.

Because now that he knew how sweet Bella's mouth was, he wanted to taste every inch of her. He wanted to hear the sounds she'd make when he licked her pussy, and if they were anything like the sounds he made when he kissed her – Edward was done for.

By the time his shift was nearly over, he was more worked up than he wanted to be. It wasn't just nerves about their date, but it was also the very idea that it _was_ a date. He'd thought about her all day, wondering if she was doing the same. He just hoped that with her anxiety, she hadn't spent the whole day panicking over what might happen. The line he was balancing was narrow as fuck. He wanted her – wanted to be with her – but he didn't want to cause her any unnecessary stress. And Edward wasn't sure how he was going to manage it. He figured the best place to start was by making her feel as comfortable and relaxed as possible.

It wasn't like he could bring over a bottle of wine with dinner. She'd told him she didn't drink. And then he realized he didn't even know what kind of food she liked. He couldn't believe he hadn't even asked. He'd just been so goddamn excited she'd agreed to the date at all.

Fuck.

He couldn't ever remember being this worried about something as simple as a date. And just that thought made him feel guilty because, in all probability, none of this would be simple for Bella.

When six o'clock rolled around, she still hadn't made it back to the building. He considered staying until she got there, but he realized he only had an hour and a half to go home to change and pick up dinner. He willfully ignored the nagging feeling that something was wrong with her delay, cursing himself for still not knowing her fucking phone number or even where she worked, and he headed out.

She'd be there when he returned.

.

.

.

 **A/N**

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **Y'all make me smile so hard.**

 **Marvar, as always, is a goddess. And I love her.**

 **Reviews are love.**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

At seven-fifteen, Edward walked into the lobby where he'd already spent twelve hours of his day. But this time, he wasn't in uniform. He was freshly showered, wearing jeans and a black Henley, and the palm of his hand was stinging from the heat of the pizza box he carried.

He nodded at the other guard at his usual post, and headed for the elevator. By the time he made it to Bella's door, his heart was pounding far too hard for a man of his age and overall athletic ability. Quietly telling himself to get a grip, he knocked on the door twice.

When she didn't answer after a full minute, he knocked again. The panic he felt that something might be wrong was a real live thing in his chest, and he briefly wondered if this was what Bella felt like all the time. And if it was, he was even more amazed by her strength than he had been the previous night. She'd actually let him – a man she barely fucking knew – into her home. Let him touch her and hold her and kiss her.

Fuck.

What if she was rethinking everything, and too nervous to go through with their date?

He was about to knock again when the door opened. And there she was, her long brown hair spilling over the shoulders of a blue bathrobe. Her skin was flushed, pink and warm. And against the deep blue of her robe, it had never looked so beautiful.

 _She was_ , he thought.

 _So fucking beautiful._

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice shaking just a little. "I was running late because I had to finish something at work. And I thought I'd have time to shower and change before you got here, but you…you're early."

Edward didn't respond.

He couldn't stop staring at her. Even though he knew she was finished speaking. Maybe it was the relief that rushed over him in a warm wave that she was there and she was safe. Maybe it was the flush of her skin, and it felt like it was the first time he was seeing it. But it was most likely the fact that there was a high fucking probability that she wasn't wearing anything underneath that robe. And it wasn't that the robe was indecent. In fact, she was all covered up as if she was wearing her clothes.

But his thoughts were suddenly indecent.

His mouth was suddenly too dry.

"Edward?" His name was a question on her lips, and her face went from flushed pink to deep red like she knew what he was thinking.

"You're beautiful," he said. Because he had to. Because he couldn't keep the words inside, and she needed to know.

If it was possible, she blushed even more. Hell, _he_ was probably blushing.

"I'm… I need to change."

"Yeah, umm…" he stammered, as she stepped to the side, letting him in. "And I should probably put this down."

"Pizza?"

"Yeah, I–uhh…I didn't know what you would like. And I thought maybe Bella was an Italian name. And it was safe or whatever, but if it's not what you want, I can go get something different while you umm….change."

"Pizza's great," she said, a small smile forming on her lips.

Edward breathed for the first time in what he felt was about twenty minutes, her smile taking away the sting of feeling like a total asshole.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

She quickly disappeared into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. Edward looked around, trying to decide where to put the pizza. At first, he thought the dining room table, but that seemed too formal, so he settled on the coffee table. He made his way to her kitchen, wondering if he should be making himself so at home in her space. He saw a roll of paper towels on the counter, and he figured that plates would be unnecessary, wanting to keep things as casual and comfortable as possible. It was just pizza after all. But what if Bella was the kind of person who didn't eat in the living room? What if she preferred the dining room? He couldn't even remember the last time he'd eaten a meal at an actual table that wasn't in a restaurant.

He was still lost in thought when she appeared in the kitchen.

She was wearing black leggings and a long grey sweater. Her little feet were bare against the tile of the floor, and since when did Edward think feet were sexy? But they were the only exposed skin on her body, so he decided they actually were.

"I didn't know where you wanted to eat, but I was thinking we could sit in the living room at your coffee table," he said, holding up the paper towels.

"That sounds…good."

"Unless you wanted to sit somewhere else."

He realized he sounded like a bumbling idiot, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. She made him stupid with wanting.

She approached him slowly, reaching out to take the paper towels from his hand. "Are you okay?" she asked. "You seem…nervous."

Edward let out a deep breath. "I just…I don't want to fuck this up."

She laughed a little, doing nothing to help his current state of mind. "I was just thinking the same thing when I was in there changing. Besides," she added, "I thought I was supposed to be the nervous one."

"I've been nervous all day."

"Really?"

"Well, nervous and excited."

"Me too," she said, and he relaxed so much at her words.

"You look nice," he told her, finally acknowledging that she changed.

"Better than the bathrobe?"

"No…uhh…" he said, clearing his throat. "The bathrobe was…nice."

He could practically feel her embarrassment.

"I mean the color," he tried to clarify. "You look good in blue…and grey."

"You look good, too."

Edward didn't respond because, honestly, he didn't want to say something stupid again. So, they stood silently in her kitchen, and she was just holding the paper towels and looking at him with this expression he couldn't quite understand. Her eyes dropped to his mouth for just a second before shooting back up to his again, and he wondered if maybe she was thinking about kissing him. She was definitely sending out signals, that under any other circumstance, he would take a clear sign. And while he wanted nothing more than to kiss her again, he didn't want to press shit too far, too fast.

However, he couldn't seem to be the one to move away first. He liked her proximity, liked knowing that she was close enough to touch. Even if he wasn't making a move to touch her.

She broke the silence first.

"Hungry?"

"Yeah," he told her, not giving a single fuck about the pizza. "I'm starving."

.

.

Bella leaned back against the couch, looking at the half-eaten box of pizza. She was sitting on the floor, legs crossed under her coffee table. And Edward sat next to her. She could feel the heat emanating from his body. He seemed more relaxed than he had earlier. And she was glad. Although, if she was being honest, there had been something so soothing about his apparent nervousness. She understood how he felt, of course. But it was nice to know that maybe she wasn't alone in her feelings. Bella had felt alone for so much of her life where her anxiety was concerned. And for the first time, possibly ever, Bella felt as if she'd been seen, felt as if she was understood.

It was more than that, though. It was the _way_ he looked at her – like she was something desirable. No one – _not a single person_ – had ever looked at Bella like that. It made her feel things, made her want to _do_ things. Like, kiss him in her kitchen because she thought he wanted her kisses.

And she wanted his.

But she wasn't brave enough for something like that yet.

Their conversation had been pretty light as they ate dinner. She told him pizza was one of her favorites, and it had seemed to please him a great deal. He asked a lot of questions about her work, what she did, and how she liked it. He told her that he used to be a police officer and had been injured. And even though he was clearly fine now, the idea that someone had actually shot him upset Bella more than was probably appropriate for someone who'd only known him for such a short time.

"What's your favorite color?" he asked, pulling her from her thoughts.

"Green," she said, looking into his eyes. His returning smile made her glad she'd been honest. "Yours?"

"Blue," he said, lowly, clearing his throat. "Has anyone ever told you how uh…good you look in blue?"

Maybe it was how close he was, or the low tenor of his voice right next to ear, but Bella shivered at his words.

"Just you," she said, leaning in a little closer to him without even realizing. "But I'm okay with that."

"I'm more than okay with that," he said, lifting his hand to brush her hair off her shoulder. It was the first time he'd touched her all evening, and even though the touch was innocent in the grand scheme of things, it made Bella feel anything but innocent. "It's your skin," he continued. "It looks really fucking good next to blue. When you answered the door in your robe earlier…" he paused. The incomplete sentence was beyond frustrating.

His fingers were trailing lightly over her neck, causing what felt like a million nerve-endings to tingle under her skin.

"What?" she asked, needing to know what else he was going to say.

"You don't want to know."

"I do," she insisted, softly. "Tell me."

He looked at her for a long moment like she was a puzzle he was trying to figure out. Then an expression of resolve cemented on his gorgeous face, and he said, "I looked at you in that robe, with your skin so pink and hot and probably damp from the shower, and all I could think was that you were naked underneath it."

Bella sucked in a breath on the word 'naked' and suddenly, her whole body was hyper-attuned to the man sitting next to her.

And he wasn't sitting close enough.

"Distract me," he said roughly.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"Distract me before I do something stupid," he said, the gentle touch on her neck changing to something rougher, something pulling and gripping, and Bella liked the change more than she probably should. "Distract me before I kiss you, or do something _really_ stupid like tell you that I've never wanted anything more than I wanted to see all that damp pink skin under your modest robe."

Arousal hit Bella hard and fast. Maybe it was his words, and the images that rushed vividly into her mind as he said them. But all she knew in that moment was she wanted him, wanted his kiss, and wanted – for the first time in her life – to be stripped bare for someone to see.

Not someone.

Edward.

Because her naked flesh was nothing compared to the things she'd already revealed to him. And he was still there, wanting more.

"I don't want to distract you from that."

.

.

.

 **A/N**

 **Real talk: I didn't realize how foreboding I made the end of the last chapter sound. It wasn't until all of you pointed it out to me. I was mostly trying to convey how little Edward really knew about Bella. So, yeah…sorry about that. Lmao**

 **As always, thank you for reading. And thank you for loving these two. Writing fic again has been fun. This has made me remember why I've written like 545484212 of them.**

 **Once again, Marvar makes everything I write better. And I adore her.**

 **See you tomorrow!**

 **Reviews are love.**


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Edward could feel the pounding of Bella's pulse under his hand that was gripping her neck too hard, too rough. Only the pounding didn't match the words she'd just spoken. It was the way she was looking at him, too – this wide-open expression from brown eyes that silently asked for more.

Would she mind if he kissed her the way he wanted to?

Would it scare her?

Hell, the way he wanted her – this overwhelming _need_ for her – was scaring _him_.

But he couldn't stop himself.

"Bella." Her name was a whispered warning on his lips, and he knew he could never have stopped the inevitability of what was about to happen. Because that's what all of it felt like.

Inevitable.

Bella had been inevitable.

Edward never believed in fate. He believed that life was composed of choices and the consequences of those choices. He'd made a choice to become a police officer, and suffered the consequence of being shot. Then, he'd stood in a lobby at a mundane job he didn't give a single fuck about until the day she walked in. This shy, nervous woman, who should never have spared him a first glance, much less a second.

But she did.

He kissed her then, his mouth open and hungry and wet. And the way she just let him was so goddamn gratifying. The way she just opened up, allowing him to pull her close as he licked and sucked and tasted her.

And fuck, she tasted amazing.

All hot and salty-sweet against his tongue.

He was so wrapped up in her taste, he almost missed the way she threaded her fingers through his hair. She seemed as needy as he felt, which was impossible, of course. Because no one had ever needed anyone or anything the way he needed her.

Just like this.

Her response was almost the same as the night before – passionate and desperate and just a little too much. But it _wasn't_ too much, not for him. He didn't want it to end. In fact, the idea that it might stop was enough to make him pull her closer, kiss her harder.

And she came.

She came to him, pressing up on her knees before sliding over his lap. His name a whimpered breath into his mouth. It was the sexiest thing in the goddamn world, hearing his name like that. And he couldn't help himself. He pressed up against her, practically grinding his dick against the soft, hot space between her legs. Because she was. She was so fucking hot he could feel her heat through his jeans. And he knew that if he reached inside to touch her there, he would find her wet and swollen and ready to take him.

Except she wasn't.

The realization swept over him all at once.

She'd never had sex. Hell, this was only her second fucking kiss, and here he was, grinding his hard cock against her pussy that he was certain had never even been touched.

"Bella," he groaned, pulling back to look into her eyes. They were wild with the same desire he felt, her cheeks flushed with the same arousal. Only, she wasn't having it. She kissed him again, pressing against his dick over and over, and for a moment, he almost let her continue. Because it felt too good, and he wanted her too much. He could make her come like this – like horny fucking teenagers just discovering what their bodies were capable of for the first time. But this wasn't Edward's first time, and he wanted Bella's first time to be better than that. "Bella, baby. Stop."

She did just that, attempting to awkwardly scramble off his lap. But that was not what he wanted at all, so he wrapped his arms around her body, holding her still and steady against him. She was breathing hard, her eyes wild and confused.

"Why did you…" she started, mortification crossing her face. "I thought you…you told me to stop."

"Maybe stop was the wrong word," he said carefully. "I just – I wanted us to slow down."

She seemed to think about what he was saying for a moment, the confusion clear in her expression. She bit down on her still-swollen bottom lip, making Edward want to lick it.

"I thought maybe you changed your mind," she said. "Like, maybe you didn't…" She didn't finish her thought. Instead, she shook her head, seeming to think better of it.

Edward didn't like the expression on her face. "Didn't what?" he asked. "Want you?"

The very idea of that was ridiculous.

"I don't know," she mumbled.

"Isn't it obvious how much I want you?" he asked, gently pressing his erection against her.

"Nothing about you… _about this_ …is obvious to me."

She ducked down, tucking her head against his neck, as if she was trying to hide, even as she squirmed against him. He bit back a moan. Reaching up to stroke her hair, he said, "There's not a single part of you I don't find amazing. Your guarded mind, your strength, especially the way you kiss me."

"You like the way I kiss?" she asked, leaning her head back and looking up into his eyes. And to Edward, nothing he'd ever seen had ever been more beautiful.

"That's not obvious either?"

She shook her head.

"Whenever we kiss, I feel like…you make me feel like I never want to stop."

"Then why did you?"

It was such a simple question, and she deserved an honest answer. "Because kissing you makes me want to do a lot more."

He captured her little gasp with his mouth, kissing her deeply yet gently. He held her against him close enough that she couldn't move. Because while he loved the feeling of her pussy pressed against his cock, if she started grinding against him again, he'd want to push things too far. And even though she seemed like she really fucking wanted it, he needed to take shit slow for her.

Hell, he needed to take it slow for both of them.

"Bella," he murmured, dragging his open mouth over her neck. "I think you know by now that I don't want to scare you because that would fucking kill me. But there are things I really want to do tonight, and I think you want them, too. But I need you to tell me if you actually want this…if you're ready for this."

"I'm nervous," she whispered, as he pulled back to look into her eyes. "But I want this."

There wasn't even a hint of reluctance in her voice.

"What makes you nervous?"

"A million things."

"Like what?"

She dipped her head, flush coloring her cheeks.

"Like, I won't know what to do," she mumbled.

"Everything you've done so far has been perfect."

"Even when I freaked out?"

"I've freaked out a hundred times tonight," he said, tilting her face up to meet his. "What else you got?"

She shook her head. "Stuff that's too embarrassing to say out loud."

"More embarrassing than the fact that I almost came in my pants like a teenager a few minutes ago because you felt so fucking good straddling my lap?"

Her eyes widened, but a small smile formed on her lips.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Me, too."

Edward groaned. "You know there's nothing I want more than to make you come?"

"No one's ever…" she started. "I mean I've…but I mean, no one else has…"

She was going to kill him, he thought.

"No one's ever made you come?" he asked, his voice gruff. He knew it, of course, but fuck if he didn't want to hear her say it.

"No one else has ever touched me like that."

Not pressing his dick up against her in that moment was the hardest thing Edward had ever done.

"But you've…touched yourself," he said. He didn't need her confirmation, but she gave it to him anyway with a slight nod of her head. Not to mention the crimson stain on her skin. "Bella, I… _god_ , I want to touch you. Will you let me?"

.

.

Bella's dilemma, as Edward held her close and asked her to let him touch her was this: She was probably going to die if she let him, but she would definitely die if she didn't.

And probable death was better than certain death.

So, she said, "Okay."

He kissed her again, hard and fast, before saying, "If I do anything you don't like – anything at all, Bella – all you have to do is tell me. And I swear to god, I'll stop."

She was vaguely aware of him turning her around and placing her between his legs. Although, the truth was that she was very much aware of every single touch of his hand, every single breath on her neck. She just also happened to be aware of the pounding in her chest, her too-shallow breaths, and the vivid realization that this was _actually_ going to happen.

He was _going_ to touch her.

And she had never wanted anything more.

He swept her hair to the side before wrapping his arms around her waist. The cold air on her neck was soon replaced with hot, wet suction of his open mouth. He kissed her skin the way he'd kissed her lips – taking and giving at the same time. She'd never realized that it was possible to feel this way. And she didn't know if she could bear the sensation of it.

"You don't know how long I've wanted this," he murmured, directly into her ear. "How fucking long I waited for you to say something…anything to me at all."

He pulled at the neck of her sweater, exposing her shoulder, and dragging his mouth over her exposed skin. "You taste so good; your skin's so soft."

His hands slid down to her breasts, his palms slightly ghosting over the swell of them. She jerked in his arms, electricity flooding her body as she gasped for breath. And almost as quickly as it happened, he pulled his hands away. But Bella didn't want him to stop, she realized, because the absence of his touch was so much more jarring than the touch itself.

"Please," she whimpered. And without thinking, she grabbed his hands and brought them back up to her chest again, holding them there more tightly than was probably necessary. "Don't. I mean…don't stop."

"Shhh…" he hushed her quietly. "I'm not gonna stop. I just…I don't want to do more than you're ready for. But I promise, I'll take care of you."

She leaned back, placing her full weight on his chest, and his words struck her as she laid her head on his shoulder.

Bella had no doubt he would take care of her. Not just… _sexually_. Or whatever this was going to be between them. She felt safe with Edward. And even more shockingly, she realized she _had_ from the moment he'd brought a box of books into her apartment.

And that was when he whispered, "I want to take this off. Will you let me?"

His hands slipped down to the hem of her heavy sweater, and she knew if she told him 'no,' he wouldn't push her any further. But Bella didn't want to say 'no.'

"Yes," she whispered, and slowly, almost torturously, he lifted the sweater over her head, and dropped it on the floor beside them.

It wasn't cold in her apartment, but even still, goosebumps rose on every inch of her exposed flesh, causing her to shiver. She was very aware of everything in that moment – how quiet it was in her apartment, how the silence only amplified the sound of Edward's breathing in her ear. Even her own breaths, which seemed too shallow, too short. The way her heart rate spiked when his warm hand slid over her chest and onto the cup of her beige bra that was far too plain and practical for something as illicit as this.

"Jesus," he practically moaned. "Do you have any idea what seeing you like this does to me?"

Flustered, Bella could feel his erection pressing against her, which caused almost as many sensations as the feeling of his hand against her breast. "I think so," she said lamely, because she honestly wasn't sure if the question was rhetorical, especially given just how _hard_ he was. And that brought on a whole new myriad of emotions because Edward was _clearly_ aroused.

For her.

He _wanted_ her.

Bella was naive about many things – sex in particular – considering how sheltered her life had been up to this point. But she knew you couldn't fake that kind of physical response. And she knew it because it was the same way she responded to him.

He kissed her neck again as he fully cupped both breasts with his hands. She bit down on her lip so hard it hurt, almost as if she needed something to counterbalance the awakening pleasure of her body. Because that's what it was – _absolute pleasure_ – and Bella never knew she could feel this way.

And then, as if it all wasn't already too much, he swiped his thumbs directly over her nipples as he gently bit down on her neck, causing her to cry out. She reached up, grabbing his hands tightly in her own, not because she wanted him to stop, but because she needed something real to ground her.

"Bella?" he asked, his breath hot and wet against her neck. "Do you want me to stop?"

She could only shake her head, turning around in his arms. She didn't want him to stop, but she needed to be able to touch him, too. His eyes were deep green pools, filled with concern, and that's not what she wanted. "I'm not scared," she said even as she could feel the anxiety rising inside her. She took his face in her hands with a kind of courage she never knew she possessed, and she kissed him urgently. And he let her, pulling her fully against him, and holding her tight like somehow he knew it was what she needed.

Their kiss slowly moved from something desperate to something deep and fulfilling. And as her heart rate slowed, and her body settled, she pulled back, sucking in a deep breath.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked.

She nodded. "I just think…I mean, it's-I'm…it's better for me when I can touch you, too."

A small smile formed on his lips as he turned his mouth into her palm, placing a kiss in the center.

"I can work with that."

.

.

.

 **A/N**

 **Welp. I was asleep at seven last night like an old lady, but in my defense, I have to be at work at six-thirty this morning. So, you get the update now. I hope it was worth the wait.**

 **Reviews are love.**


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Edward couldn't stop staring at her breasts.

Technically, he couldn't stop staring at the bra covering her breasts. He had moved them both up to the couch instead of the floor. She was in his lap again because for some reason he didn't quite understand, the ability to touch him made it better for her. Which was exactly the opposite of what he'd assumed, but she was constantly surprising him, so why would this be any different?

He didn't mind, of course. Any part of her body that wanted to touch any part of his was a goddamn gift. But Edward was dying to unwrap her.

"I want to see you," he said, softy grazing her breasts. He looked into her eyes, as he slowly reached around to the clasp of her bra. If she told him no, he would stop, but thankfully she didn't. She simply nodded, giving him permission. And Jesus fuck, the sight of her, bare from the waist up as she straddled his lap, was almost his undoing.

Her breasts were gorgeous.

Full and firm, with nipples that were larger and darker than he expected. And Edward liked that very much. Raw lust coursed through him, and his cock jumped painfully. She felt it, her eyes widening, and immediately she clenched her legs, pressing down hard against him.

 _Fuck._

"Bella, baby, _please_ ," he rasped. "Don't move."

He fought to regain control with all the strength he possessed, and he was certain it wouldn't be enough. Between the sight of her, and those nipples he wanted to kiss and lick and suck until they were as hard as his dick, he was going to come before he ever got a chance to be inside her.

"Did I hurt you?" she asked, attempting to move away. But he stopped her, holding her tightly against him.

"No," he told her. "At least, not in a bad way." He kept her against him as he settled. Deeply breathing in her scent, he marveled at what it felt like to hold her partially naked body this close.

"There is pain that's not bad?" she murmured against his throat. "I'm not sure I think that's true."

He laughed quietly, not wanting to break the little bubble they'd somehow slipped inside during the last few moments. "Did you like it when I bit your neck?"

"That was…" She squirmed.

"Yeah," he said. "That. Only for me, when you do…well, what you're doing right now, I love it. But sometimes, it's too much."

"Is it too much right now?"

"No," he said, running his hand up her side and over the side of her bare breast. "It makes me want to do this."

He slowly pushed her back, his eyes wandering to her chest. She was still, but not tense, and Edward couldn't stop himself – he had to kiss her there. Had to know what her delicate skin tasted like. And fuck, she tasted good. He brushed his lips against the swell, his tongue sliding down to the tender flesh next to her ribs.

Her little whimpers encouraged him, so he cupped her other breast, before gently pinching her nipple until it puckered and hardened to a perfect little point.

God, her body was just as responsive as he imagined it would be. With as much restraint as he possessed, he gently licked the tip of her nipple, but the taste of her flooded his senses, the sounds she made urged him on, so Edward took her fully into his mouth. Not just her nipple that was textured with a million lines and crevices he wanted map out with his tongue, but the whole of her flesh.

He was like a man possessed as he sucked on her breast in long, wet pulls. And she was just as needy, he realized, as her whimpers turned to moans, her hands gripping his hair before making their way to his shoulders. He shuddered at the sting of her nails digging into his skin.

She was steadily rubbing against his dick, and realized he didn't give a single fuck if he embarrassed himself by coming too early because he wanted her to do whatever felt good. He was pretty sure he could make her come like this, with just his mouth on her breasts. And Edward wanted to make her come. Wanted to hear the sounds she'd make as she fell apart in his arms.

"You feel…" he rasped, licking between her breasts. He was overcome by the sight of her like that, all wet from his mouth. "I can't…it's never…"

"I'm sorry," she said, panting, as she stopped the motion of her hips.

"No, don't," he urged her. "Do what feels good. This – what you're doing – feels so fucking good. And I want to make you come, Bella. Do you think you can?"

"I don't know," her breathless response only serving to make him even more determined. "I've never…not like…"

"You've never come?" he asked, unable to hide the apparent surprise in his voice.

"No, I have…" she said, looking down and blowing out a frustrated breath. He didn't want her frustrated. He wanted her like she was a moment before, breathless and panting and dry humping his fucking cock. "It's just…"

"What?" Then, the realization of what she wanted to say hit him. "You mean," he said, his voice softer than before, "It's only happened when you…when you've touched yourself."

She nodded.

"Bella," her name came out in a gruff whisper. He pulled her face to his, and he kissed her.

He felt her melt into his kiss, and he knew what he needed to do.

What he was fucking dying to do.

Careful to hold her against him, he pushed her back until she was lying on the couch. He hovered above her, dragging his mouth down, first to her neck, and then her chest. He gently kissed her nipples, one, and then the other.

"You know you're safe with me, don't you." It wasn't a question, because the evidence of her trust was clearly displayed in the vulnerable position of her fragile body underneath him. "And you know that I never want to make you uncomfortable. I swear to god, Bella, I'd sooner cut off my own dick before I ever did anything to hurt you."

"I believe you," she said, and those three words sent his goddamn heart soaring.

His ran his hands up and down, gently grazing her sides before hooking his thumbs in the waist of her leggings.

"I'm going to take these off now."

.

.

Bella was frozen somewhere between this ecstasy she'd never known and absolute terror at his words. But before she had any real time to consider what was happening, his mouth covered hers. His kiss was deep, methodical, relaxing her, even as it set her body on fire.

She could feel the soft fabric sliding down her legs, but as he kissed her, she found she didn't care. Not really. Not when she thought about what he'd just said – that he would never hurt her. She believed him then, the sincerity of his words had been nothing short of a vow. And even as he revealed the most private place of her body, she believed him still.

Edward would never hurt her.

He pulled back, kneeling on the couch between her legs, and stared down at her. Embarrassed, she couldn't imagine how she must look to him. She only knew how she felt – anxious, vulnerable, and exposed. Her heart pounded so hard and fast she could practically hear it in the quiet of the room. She nervously glanced up to his face, his expression unreadable.

"You're beautiful, Bella," he said, his words a balm to her nerves. He touched her face, his palm cupping her cheek as he dragged his thumb across her bottom lip. And then slowly, so slowly she thought she might die, his other hand stroked down her chest, lingering over her breast, causing her to jerk up toward him. Undeterred, he descended farther down, his fingers trailing over her stomach and the curve of her hip, and then, mercifully, he cupped her _there_. "And here, Bella. You're _so_ fucking beautiful here."

She couldn't focus on anything except the feeling of him touching her so intimately, and she was _letting_ him. Oh, god. It was really happening. She whimpered, simultaneously fighting the need to close her legs tight or let them fall open. She didn't have time to decide when she felt the tip of his finger slide up and down the slick length of her sex.

"I hoped you'd be just like this," he said, his own voice sounded just as breathless as she felt. "I could feel your heat on my cock through your pants, but Jesus, baby. You're so fucking wet. Do you always get like this? Or are you like this for me?"

"Oh, god," she moaned loudly, shockingly. Her own hands reached down to cover his, and she didn't know if she wanted to push it closer or pull it away entirely. It was too much. "Please."

"Shhh…" he hushed her, even as his finger continued its gentle exploration. "Let me take care of you, Bella. I promise I'll make it so fucking good."

It was his eyes, all needy and imploring, that convinced her to let him. So, she dropped her hands to her sides, clutching at the fabric of the cushions, as he gently spread her open.

"That's it," he said. "Keep your legs open for me."

He kissed his way down her chest and belly, as he touched her with more skill and understanding than even she had of her own body, but she tensed up when his lips covered her hipbone, wetly sucking her flesh there.

"What are you…" she whimpered.

"Let me," he pleaded, his voice as raw as she felt. " _Trust_ me."

She felt his breath, hot and damp, before she felt his tongue. She cried out uncontrollably at the million sensations centered on that one tiny place that only she had ever touched. Her immediate response was to pull away, but the pleasure he was giving was too much to shy away from. And then she felt his finger, long and slick and pushing into her opening. Slowly at first, then steady and deliberate.

She was all raw need and anticipation, and there was nothing in the world except the feeling of his tongue licking against her most sensitive flesh and his long finger pushing inside her. He was relentless in his efforts, and Bella could feel herself falling over the edge of something scary and amazing, the likes of which she could never have known without him.

It all became overwhelming, her pleasure too acute, too intense to bear. Her feet pressed against the couch, and she couldn't stop herself from wantonly pushing up against his face, and he held her there as she shuddered, shattering into a million pieces.

.

.

.

 **A/N**

 **In case you couldn't tell, I think consent is hot as fuck.**

 **Much love to Marvar, who has basically been editing filthy, dirty, awesome words for me for ten years. God, I've been leaving her little love notes at the end of chapters forever, and it will never be enough to thank her for all the time and energy she exerts on something for which I should honestly be paying her.**

 **Also, not for nothing, I couldn't do this without the feedback and encouragement of Jaime, Funmbie, Courtney, and Raina. Who have basically been pre-reading my stuff from the beginning. I adore you guys more than I can ever tell you.**

 **Thank you for reading!**

 **Reviews are love.**


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Edward was still reeling from the taste of her pussy in his mouth, on his tongue. Jesus, she was so fucking tight and wet and hot, and everything a woman was supposed to be and more.

He'd never experienced anything like it. It wasn't just the way she trusted him, which, in itself, was the most amazing goddamn gift he'd ever received. Even if he wasn't entirely certain he deserved it. But it was the way she'd let go while he was touching her and kissing her. He wasn't even sure she was aware of her response.

But Edward was.

He'd heard every whimper, every moan, every single fucking time she'd cried his name. He knew she was close when she pressed herself against his mouth like she couldn't get close enough, the way she clenched around his finger, pulling it deeper inside her, and all he could think about was the way she was going to feel around his cock.

Her body was tightly strung like a goddamn wire ready to be tripped. And Edward needed to make her come, needed to show her that he'd meant it when he told her to trust him because he'd take care of her.

And then it happened.

She cried out, low and desperate. Her pussy spasmed, coating his hand, and flooding his mouth. And Edward knew nothing in the world had ever been more gorgeous than the sight of Bella, naked and coming with complete abandon.

He licked her softly, hoping to bring her down as gently as possible. When he was certain he'd wrung out every ounce of pleasure he could give her, he slid up the couch, taking her limp and trembling body into his arms, and he held her.

He held her so close, whispering how beautiful she was, how grateful he was that she'd allowed him to do that. Because he was. He was so fucking grateful to be the only man to ever witness her uninhibited beauty in that way.

Edward had never been an eloquent man, but in those quiet moments, he realized his words were fucking useless. Not just _his_ words, but _all_ words. He didn't know if he could ever fully express what it had meant to him.

What _she_ meant to him.

He slowly became aware that what he thought were trembles, were actually full-bodied shudders. She was crying, he realized. Not just crying, but sobbing. Tears flooded her face as her body racked with sobs.

Panicked, he asked, "Bella, Bella, what's wrong?

She turned into his chest, pressing her face against his shirt, as if she was trying to muffle the sounds. And Edward lay there, holding her, impotent in his ability to offer any sort of comfort or help.

He'd been a fool, of course. There he was, thinking of how beautiful it had all been – and to him, it was – when all the while, he'd actually done exactly what he swore he wouldn't do. He'd pushed her too far, and she couldn't handle it.

And then an equal fear took root. Had he actually hurt her? He'd never been with a sexually inexperienced woman in his life. And she'd been so tight, even around his finger. What if he'd ripped and torn her flesh? What if the whole while he thought he'd been pleasuring her, he'd actually been causing her pain?

"Please, Bella," he said urgently, trying to get her to look at him so he could make sure she was okay. "Please don't cry, please…"

She wouldn't look at him, and he didn't know what do to do, so he covered her naked body with a throw from the back of her couch, and just held her. All the while, her tears steadily fell.

After several moments of whispered apologies and refusing to let her go, her cries quieted. Her body settled with each deep and shuddering breath she took. He noticed that the whole time they'd been there she hadn't tried to move away from him. Not only that, but her hands gripped his shirt in tight fists like she didn't want to let him go. It didn't make sense, especially if he'd hurt her.

"How badly are you hurt, Bella?" he asked, gently lifting her face so he could look at her. Her face was all red, her eyes swollen. And even then, Edward thought she was beautiful. He wiped her tears away with his thumbs. "The truth – don't try to downplay it."

"I'm not hurt, Edward," she said, blowing out a deep breath. "I'm…I just…"

"What?" he asked, his voice pleading.

"Overwhelmed."

She looked down, hiding her face from him again, and he hated it. Hated that what they'd done together caused her pain. Even if it wasn't physical. Emotional pain was just as bad, maybe worse, depending on the situation.

She'd trusted him.

 _He told her to trust him._

And he should have known he'd fuck this up.

"I'm…so sorry, Bella," he whispered. "I knew better than this. I shouldn't have…"

"Edward, stop," she urged him. "I was overwhelmed because what happened…what you just did…I didn't know that it could be like that. I didn't know that I could…feel the things you made me feel. And it was…"

It sounded a whole lot like she was saying it was good, but anything good wouldn't have rendered her to a sobbing mess.

Would it?

Could that actually be what she was saying?

"Too much?" he asked.

"Edward," she said, reaching up and taking his face in her hands before kissing him tenderly. "It was amazing."

"But you cried."

"Haven't you ever cried because something made you happy?"

Edward tried and failed to think of anything happy that would have made him cry. Hell, he didn't even cry over the sad things in his life. But he didn't want to tell her that. "Maybe?"

"Well, that's what it was like for me," she said quietly. "Only multiply it by, like, a million. I didn't mean to…I'm sorry if I–"

"Hey," he said gently, cutting her off. "You don't _ever_ have to apologize for that, not for the way you feel, _not ever_."

"I made everything awkward," she mumbled.

Edward pulled her closer, his relief palpable.

"Nothing about this is awkward," he said, breathing in her scent, and reveling in the feeling of her in his arms. "Not a single fucking thing."

They stayed like that for a long time. He stroked her hair as she nuzzled against his chest. Little by little, she settled against him until he thought that maybe she'd fallen asleep.

"Edward?" her soft voice filled the space between them. "What we did…I mean, earlier when you…"

"Yeah?"

"I didn't know. I mean, I never thought…that it could be like that."

His heart clenched, almost painfully. But it was a good hurt, the kind of hurt that made him realize just how empty his life had been for some time.

Until her.

"I never knew it could be like that, either," he said gruffly.

"But we didn't…." she paused, and he felt her pulse kick up. "I mean…what about you?"

She turned her face up to his, her expression inquisitive and searching.

"Don't worry about me," he told her. He kissed her then, gentle and deep. "We have all the time in the world, Bella. I can wait."

.

.

Bella wasn't sure what time it was when she woke up. She only knew it was early. It was still dark in her room, which was unusual because she normally left the door to her bathroom cracked with the light on.

Several other realizations hit her all at once.

She was naked under her sheets, and Bella never slept naked.

Her pillow was much harder than usual, and it also had a heartbeat.

Bella wasn't alone.

She shot up quickly before remembering she was naked. She grabbed her duvet, and brought it up to her chest, covering her breasts.

"Bella, shhh…"Edward's voice broke through her panic. "It's just me."

"You _stayed_?" she asked, the pitch of her voice was higher than usual, even if it was filled with sleep.

"You fell asleep on the couch," he said, gently rubbing her back. It was a strange sensation – unfamiliar yet comforting – to wake up with someone else. She didn't quite know what to make of it. "And I didn't want to leave you alone after…you know, everything. So, I brought you in here and put you in bed. You were tired."

"What about you?" she asked, her heartbeat settling down.

"I was tired, too," he said.

He gently tugged on her hand, pulling her back over him. She went, somewhat reluctantly. It's not that she minded Edward staying, especially after everything that happened the night before. But Bella didn't deal well with changes in her routine. She'd always been very structured, and that structure helped to keep her centered and calm.

"Are you upset?" he asked, his voice concerned.

"Not…upset," she told him honestly. "I just…I was surprised."

She was, she realized. She was surprised she was actually able to sleep with someone else. She'd only ever slept alone.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked.

"I slept fine. More than fine," he murmured. His hands were warm against her back, as he gently stroked up and down. "But not as well as you."

"Oh, no," she groaned, heat flooding her face. "Did I snore or something? Oh, god. Please tell me I didn't snore."

She buried her face in his chest, puzzling over the fact that all of this felt so easy, so comfortable. Even in the midst of her possible mortification. His laugh was easy and warm.

"No, you didn't snore. I promise."

"Then what did you mean by that sleeping-better-than-you comment?"

She was actually talking with him, and there was no panic. She was naked with him, and still, there was no panic.

"Well…" he said slowly. Too slowly. "You do…"

"What?" she asked. "What did I do?"

"You talk."

"Oh my god," she groaned. "I didn't."

"Don't be embarrassed, Bella," he said.

But she wasn't really listening to him because all she could imagine were the embarrassing things she might have said while she was sleeping. Like everything She'd done up to this point wasn't embarrassing enough. Did she really have to talk in her sleep, too?

"What did I say?" she asked.

"Nothing much," he assured me. "It was mostly nonsensical. A few words here and there."

"You're not telling me something," she said.

"I like watching you sleep," he said softly. "You said my name."

Mortified, Bella attempted to pull the covers over her head, but Edward stopped her. He rolled to his side, still holding her close.

"Don't be self-conscious," he whispered in her ear. "If I talked in my sleep at all, I would talk about you. And I'm not ashamed of it."

He kissed her then, slowly, languidly, like he had all the time in the world. She was breathless when he finally pulled back.

"I hate to do this, but I have to leave," he said, kissing her again, soft and quick.

Bella felt a pang of sadness in her chest at his words.

"Why?" she asked. "It's still so early."

"I know, and trust me, I'd rather stay here with you. But I need to go home, so I can get ready for work. It's already after four, and I need to be back by six."

Her heart felt achy at the thought of him leaving, and she silently chastised herself for even thinking that way. He obviously had to go. He didn't have a uniform here, and it wasn't as if she wouldn't see him in just a couple hours anyway.

"Okay," she finally said. "You should go. I don't want you to be late because of me."

He kissed her one last time before slipping from her bed. When he got to the door, he turned back and said, "I only work Tuesday thru Friday." She knew this, of course, because she'd memorized his schedule when she first moved in. "So, uh, I guess what I'm trying to say is that, for the next three days, I'm yours if you want."

"Oh," Bella said, turning his words over in her head. Something about them bothered her, only, she didn't know why. "That's um…good to know."

"Shit," he said, turning back and walking over to her bed. He leaned over, looking down at her. "That came out wrong. I only meant that I'm completely free for the next three days, but Bella, you have to know by now, I'm yours for as long as you want me."

.

.

.

 **A/N**

 **I know, I know. No update yesterday. But believe me, I would rather have been updating than being ridiculously overwhelmed at work. Which is where I've been, tbh.**

 **These two. I love them. I wish I could tell you just how much I loved writing them. Thank you for loving them, too.**

 **I'm gonna try to update tomorrow. Marvar has edited the next chapter, but we'll see if I have time to make her changes.**

 **Speaking of Marvar, I adore her more than she could ever know.**

 **Reviews are love.**


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Bella jerked awake as if she was trying to escape a bad dream she couldn't remember. Her head spun, all clouded and heavy from sleep, and her heart raced like she'd just run a long distance. She hadn't meant to fall back asleep, and as she looked at the clock, she realized she was going to be late for work.

She pushed her legs over the side of the bed and sat up, and that was when everything hit her. She was a bit disoriented, her chest was tight, and that was only exacerbated by the fact that her heart rate seemed to increase when she needed it to slow down.

She leaned over, putting her head between her knees and tried to breathe slowly and deeply. That usually helped in moments like this. She kept her eyes closed, and tried to focus her mind.

She was having a panic attack. That's all, she told herself. This was nothing new to her, but it had been a while since she'd had one this severe. Especially when nothing had happened to trigger it.

She needed to take an Ativan. It wouldn't take that long to take effect, and even though waiting for it to kick in would probably make her even later for work than she already was, she would be fine.

She would be fine.

She would be fine.

She kept repeating it to herself, over and over, like a mantra, as she walked to the bathroom to open her medicine cabinet.

And that's when it hit her.

The realization that she'd missed her nighttime medicine the night before rushed over her in a cold wave. Her hands trembled along with her body, as she cursed herself for being so forgetful.

How could she have forgotten to take her medicine?

She was always so diligent, never missing a dose, to avoid this very thing from happening. But she'd been so caught up in everything that happened the night before, she'd forgotten. She didn't even remember Edward taking her to bed.

She should have had more foresight, she thought. She should have taken her medicine before he came over. But she hadn't known the way their night would progress. Everything that happened between them had been spontaneous and natural.

 _Normal_ , she thought.

Last night, for the first time in her whole life, Bella had felt like a _normal_ woman with _normal_ desires, and she'd spent the entire night with this amazing man who seemed to want nothing more than to fulfill them.

And he had.

She wanted to weep.

She didn't know if it was the panic attack, or the regret she felt for making such a stupid mistake by missing her medicine, or all the lingering and unfamiliar emotions coursing through her from her night with Edward.

She only knew it was too much.

But even as she acknowledged that it was too much, she also knew that she wouldn't change what happened for anything in the world. She was becoming someone different with him, someone who wanted to open herself up to new experiences, experiences she'd been missing out on her entire life. And she wanted to experience them all with him – this amazing man who saw who she was when no one else ever had, and based on what he'd said before he left to get ready for work, he wanted to experience them with her, as well.

And with that realization, Bella took her medicine, she put on her bathrobe, and she went to the living room to lie on the couch until the anxiety passed.

Because she knew it would.

.

.

Even though he was pretty fucking exhausted, Edward had never felt so good. And it was all because of the woman in her apartment several floors above him.

The whole time he'd gotten ready for work, he couldn't keep the smile off his face. Except when he showered, because all he could think about in there was her naked body against his, the feeling of her full breasts with those sexy fucking nipples in his hands, and her wet, delicious pussy against his mouth. He felt like he'd had an erection for a solid fucking week, and he supposed that was somewhat true. But as he leaned against the tile, stroking himself off like a goddamn teenager for the second time in a week, he didn't give a single fuck.

He didn't mind taking the physical shit slow with Bella, didn't care how long he had to wait to feel her pussy around his cock. He would gladly fucking wait, because Edward knew it was going to happen eventually. Her response let him know, in more ways than one, that she was ready. Her mind just needed to catch up with her body. And Edward could be patient. Hell, for Bella, he could be Saint-fucking-Monica.

God, he couldn't wait to see her again.

Even if it was just for a few moments in the lobby before she headed to her job.

Every time he heard the ding of the elevator, his heart skipped, hoping it was her. It never was. And by the time six-thirty rolled around, Edward started feeling antsy. She never came down this late.

Never.

Edward could set a fucking clock to the schedule she kept, and she was definitely off schedule.

By seven, Edward was concerned something was wrong. He couldn't shake the nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach. It ate at him, even as he greeted the residents passing by him on their way to start their days. He got more agitated with each passing person because none of them were the _right_ person.

He needed to see Bella, needed to see her shy, smiling face.

He needed to know she was okay.

He began questioning himself, questioning whether he should have left her alone after everything that happened. She'd seemed all right when he left, and he thought he'd made clear just how much all of it meant to him. How much _she_ meant to him. But the more he thought about it, the more he doubted himself.

She'd never been with a man like that before. She'd woken up confused and disoriented by the idea that he'd stayed the night, as if he could have left her after everything that happened. As if he could have possibly done anything except stay there, holding her sleeping body in his arms. Was it possible she didn't know what she really meant to him?

He didn't have an answer.

He only knew he couldn't stand there waiting to get one, while she was possibly upstairs confused about his intentions, or regretting what they'd done.

Her confusion might be understandable, but any regret on her part wouldn't be borne.

By the time he got to her door, he was worked up – too worked up. He took a deep, calming breath, remembering that her door might still be unlocked from when he'd left earlier in the morning, and he cursed himself for leaving her unprotected. He knew it wasn't rational, of course. This was a safe building with security. But he wasn't being rational.

He turned the knob, his concern outweighing the momentary pang of guilt he felt at invading her privacy. When the door opened, his eyes immediately landed on her sleeping form on the couch. She was wearing the same blue bathrobe from the night before, and Jesus, he felt such intense relief at seeing her there, safe and okay, sleeping even.

He'd blown everything out of proportion.

He needed to get a goddamn grip.

He was about to close the door and leave, when he looked closer. It _seemed_ like she was sleeping, but there was something different in the way she lay there, all straight and still and silent. Last night, she'd slept on her side, all soft and sweet and curled up against him, whispering words at random intervals. Edward didn't know what she was doing, but she _definitely_ wasn't sleeping.

"Bella," he said, walking over toward her.

Her eyes shot open, and her hand clutched her throat. Not just her hand, but her trembling hand. And her eyes, Jesus, her eyes were all wild and unfocused.

"Edward," she said, her voice forced and breathless. "Why are you…what are you doing here?"

"I was worried about you when you didn't come downstairs," he told her honestly, still concerned by her overall appearance.

"I'm fine," she said, unnerving and irritating him even more. She clutched her robe modestly around her, the innocuous action attempting to confirm his earlier suspicions. She _was_ regretting what happened last night, and he couldn't have that.

"Please don't say you're fine, when I can clearly see that you're not," he said, searching her face for a small sign that she was still the same woman from last night. "Bella, what's wrong?"

"Edward, this is really hard for me to say, but I honestly can't deal with this right now." She took a breath that appeared shallow and painful. "Not right now, when I'm already…"

Her eyes filled with tears, and an angry red flush covered her skin. He was making whatever this was worse, and he didn't know what he should do. Part of him wondered if maybe he shouldn't just leave, but he needed her to know how important she was to him, that last night had meant more to him than he could possibly have ever known. And he wasn't going anywhere until he made that clear.

"Shhh…it's okay," he said, dropping to his knees beside her. As gently as possible, he brushed the tears away from her hot cheeks, feeling her deep and shuddering breath against his palm. "When you're already what? Bella, baby what's going on?"

"Having a panic attack." Her whimpered voice was fraught, and filled with as much anguish as he felt.

Edward had never felt like more of asshole than he did in that moment.

"This is all my fault."

.

.

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 **A/N**

 **I need to clarify something because I'm getting a ton of questions about what kind of trauma Bella has suffered to incur this kind of crippling anxiety. And I just need to be clear that nothing traumatic caused this. She suffers from severe panic disorder and social anxiety. These are medical conditions that millions of people deal with, and it doesn't necessarily have to be triggered by something. I tried to be very thoughtful in how I wrote this. I partnered with a medical doctor (Thank you, Raina.) to ensure that I was accurately portraying what living with this would be like. So, if you were looking for something dramatic and horrifying in Bella's past, this is not the story you were looking for, nor is it the story I wanted to tell.**

 **Thank you to each of you who have shared your personal stories about dealing with anxiety and panic with me. I wish I could give each of you a hug and a cup of peppermint tea.**

 **That being said, I love you all of you, and I appreciate you reading. Thank you.**

 **Reviews are love.**


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Bella couldn't help but roll her eyes at his self-deprecating statement. And then she laughed – full and loud, through her tears that were still steadily falling.

Then the most amazing thing happened. She could feel the tension in her body ease, and for the first time since she'd woken up, she felt like she was able to take a full breath.

"I knew you would think that," she said, laughing all over again at his tortured expression. It wasn't funny, not really. But the weight from her chest had suddenly lifted, and this euphoric feeling washed over her in warm and soothing waves. "That's why I wanted you to leave. But _seriously_ , Edward. Everything's not about you."

His stunned, affronted expression was enough to make her laugh again, so she bit down hard on her bottom lip, trying to contain it. But it was like trying to contain the ocean in a sippy-cup.

"I don't…" he started, pausing as if he was unsure what to say. "Why are you laughing? I don't…understand."

"This is just me," she told him, rolling over to her side and taking his hand between both of hers. "I have panic attacks. They've been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. And sometimes they come out of nowhere like this one did this morning. But this wasn't because of you or anything you did. This is just my stupid body."

"I don't believe that," he said. And then he did something that made her heart flip. He leaned down and kissed her hands, first one, and then the other. "Last night was a lot…too much, probably. And your body's not stupid. It's perfect. But maybe it's not ready…maybe _you_ weren't ready for…"

Bella's heart clenched.

"Ready for what?" she asked. "Ready to do what I'm pretty sure you asked me about a million times before you actually did it?"

He nodded.

"I'm not a child, Edward," she said, trying and failing to mask the irritation in her voice. "I'm a grown woman, and I'm more than capable of making my own decisions. And last night…I _wanted_ that. I wanted _you_. I wanted everything we did. Everything _you_ did. And yeah, _maybe_ this is my body's way of saying it was…overwhelmed. But that's not your fault. I wanted to be overwhelmed. I want to be overwhelmed again."

His eyes widened, growing dark.

"You do?"

"Yes, but…" she started, trying to think about how she was going to say what she needed to say. "But I just…I can't spend every day wondering if one of my panic attacks are going to freak you out. I mean, they don't happen every day. But they _do_ happen. And I'm used to them. Well, as used to them as I _can_ be. But they're scary enough on their own without adding the additional pressure of thinking my…" She clamped her mouth shut, realizing she'd been about to call him her boyfriend. She wasn't even sure if that's what he was. Not really. And she wasn't about to ask him. "They're scary enough without thinking that you won't be able to handle it."

"You don't think I can _handle_ it?" he asked, his voice earnest and questioning.

"I don't know," she said, more than a little miserably. "I mean, it's a lot. And you've seen some of it, but not everything. And this morning I came to the realization that that I'd finally found someone who makes me feel safe enough to want to push through all the awkwardness and embarrassment and anxiety, because being with them makes it all worth it. And even though it's terrifying, it's also amazing."

He stared at her, silent, until she felt like the anticipation of what he might say was going to kill her. She'd given him the truth – _her whole truth_ – and now she just had to wait to see what he was going to do with it. When he still didn't say anything, she said, "But maybe it's not worth it to you. I thought maybe…well, I mean, after what you said this morning, I thought maybe it was, but…"

She couldn't finish her thought because suddenly his mouth was on hers. It was a soul-bearing kiss, desperate yet soft, and Bella returned it with all the emotion she had inside until she started feeling overwhelmed again. And almost like he could read her, he pulled back and said, "It's worth it."

.

.

Edward was in awe of the woman in front him for what felt like the millionth time. She was so strong, so honest, so fucking amazing. And he didn't deserve her.

But that wasn't going to stop him.

"You're sure?" she asked. "Because this – who I am – it's not going to change. And I need to be certain that you understand the reality of this before we go any further."

"Do I seem like I'm not sure?" he asked.

"No," she said, a small giggle escaping her lips.

And this time, her laugh didn't make him crazy. Well, it did, but the kind of crazy that made him want to kiss her again as she laughed.

"I owe you an apology," he told her honestly. "For coming up here and barging in like…well, like an idiot. I just, I was so worried about you when you didn't leave for work. And I…"

"Jumped to the wrong conclusion?"

She was being so natural and unguarded with him, and Edward hoped she could always be just like this. Even though he understood that probably wouldn't always be the case.

"I don't know if I'd call it the wrong conclusion," he said, smiling. "Something was wrong. It just…what did you say? Wasn't about me?"

She sat up on the couch and scooted over, making room for him. He happily sat by her side.

"About that," she said, an edge of seriousness to her voice. "There are going to be times when I need space, and I need you to understand that. Whenever this happens, the best thing for me is having a quiet place to calm my mind. Remember when I told you that my personal space needs personal space?"

He nodded, recalling exactly when she'd said those words to him.

"I wasn't kidding," she said. "And when I told you I needed you to go a few minutes ago, I wasn't kidding then either. It was hard enough trying to calm down without you standing here in my living room. I can tell you have a tendency to be…protective. And while I appreciate that more than you know, there will be times when I need you to…"

"Tone it down?" he asked.

"Take a step back," she gently corrected.

"I–I can't promise I'll always be able to do that," he said, carefully. He didn't want to lie to her, but he didn't want to dismiss what she was clearly saying she needed. And Edward was self-aware enough to know he'd struggle to stay away if he felt like she was suffering. "You're right when you said I'm protective. I _am_ protective. It's just who I am. My dad was like that, too. I guess that's where I get it. But I can promise that I'll try to back off when you need it."

"Even if I need it a lot?"

Her shy smile pierced his heart, and suddenly he felt as light as he had earlier in the morning. From what he could tell, she was really sitting there, telling him that she was willing to try this – whatever this was going to become – with him.

"Try not to need it a lot," he said, mostly joking. "You uh…you seem to be doing better now. I mean, are you okay, Bella?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "I am now."

He grinned. "Are you saying that maybe my being here helped?"

She laughed again. He'd never get used to the way something so small made him feel, and he silently promised to try to make her laugh more often.

"Maybe you," she said, as he took her hand in his. "But also maybe the Ativan I took a half hour before you got here."

"I don't care," he told her, bringing her hand up to his lips and placing several soft kisses against her skin. "I'm just so fucking glad you're okay."

"I am," she murmured. "I promise."

Edward couldn't help himself as he kissed her again, pulling her fully against him. And as he held her in his arms, he realized that everything in his life felt right. Bella was so perfect for him, and he hoped like hell that she thought he was perfect for her, too.

He'd never felt this before, and while it was scary as all fuck, he completely understood what she'd meant before.

She was worth it.

She was worth all of it.

"Promise me something else," he said against her lips. "Promise me that we're really gonna do this together. Because I can deal with anything if it means I get to have you. Even if it means giving you space, or whatever else you might need. Because I fucking need you, Bella. And I know it's too early for me to say this shit, but it's the fucking truth. And I need to know when I walk back downstairs, that I have you to come back to when I'm done."

He pulled back so he could look into her eyes, and see the truth in whatever she was about to tell him.

"Okay, Edward. I promise."

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 **A/N**

 **Thank you for reading this story. Seriously, you'll never know how much it astounds me when you do. And although this is the (happy) end, I may post an epilogue in the near future.**

 **It was a joy to write this. It reminded me how much I love writing in the first place, and how I need a creative outlet in my life that tends to be overwhelmed with work and tedious responsibilities.**

 **All my love to Marvar, who has been my friend for a decade now. I couldn't do this without you.**

 **And love and thanks to Raina for her input and advice on Bella's condition.**

 **Smooches to my prereaders, Jaime, Funmbie and Courtney. I adore you all.**

 **Reviews are love.**


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